Bet for a Dance
by Kaleidophoenix
Summary: It was just a stupid bet. He hadn't expected to get the date, much less anticipate what came next. But he'd make the best of his situation—he always did.
1. Chapter 1: The Bet and the Dance

**Chapter 1: The Bet and the Dance**

Ron and Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room, lamenting their prospects of finding dates for the Yule Ball. The fire crackled and sparked, more alive than Ron felt. "We're in real trouble, mate," said Ron.

Harry groaned, and sank deeper into the armchair he was sitting in. "Don't remind me."

"It's not going to go away if we don't do something about it."

"Stop being sensible," Harry grumbled. He sighed, and sat up. "I suppose we've already been shot down by our first asks. What's a little more rejection?"

Fred clapped Harry on the shoulder, and said, "That's the spirit Harry. If your heart is already broken, it can't be broken much more."

George appeared next to him. "In fact, if you're up for a little fun, why don't we make a bet out of it."

Ron looked at him skeptically. "As if we'd be stupid enough to bet against you."

"It doesn't have to be anything too big," said George, holding his hands up. "It's just a little fun at the ball."

"What are you proposing?" asked Harry.

"Simple," said Fred. "Ask a girl out that we wouldn't expect in the Great Hall, and if she says yes, we'll owe each of you a favor."

"And if we lose?" asked Ron.

"We'll wear ballet shoes to the ball," said George.

Ron shared a look with Harry. He thought about it for a moment. It wouldn't be _that_ much more embarrassing than asking out Fleur. And there wasn't really any penalty if they lost. "If you're up for it, mate…"

"Doesn't sound that bad. We'll do it."

"It's settled then," said George, with a wink. "We'll be looking forward to dinner with you."

Fred and George left, leaving Ron and Harry to think about their predicament. Now they just had to think up a girl that Fred and George wouldn't expect him to go with. Ron mentally took a step back, and thought about the least likely person that Ron Weasley would go with. They'd have to be a Slytherin. But she couldn't be anyone that Ron couldn't stand to look at. That didn't narrow it down as much as Ron would have liked. No, the real question would be: who was still unattached?

With those three conditions in mind, Ron could only think of one person: the ice queen, Daphne Greengrass.

* * *

Daphne walked into the Great Hall hungry and tired. She'd stayed up far too late writing that transfiguration essay for McGonagall, and now she was paying the consequences. She sat down at the Slytherin table, and started filling her plate with mashed potatoes, roast beef, and a dinner roll.

Tracey was sitting beside her, jabbering on about something Pansy had said before charms, when she suddenly went quiet. Daphne turned to look at her, only to spot someone else standing behind her in the corner of her eye.

"Greengrass, would you come with me to the Yule Ball?" asked Ron Weasley.

Daphne blinked trying to process what she'd been asked. "What?

Weasley flushed, and said again, "Would you go with me to the Yule Ball?"

"Oh." She processed that statement a little more. "What?"

Tracey giggled, and Weasley turned an even deeper shade of red. Daphne's mind was racing. She hadn't been asked by anyone yet, so she'd been considering asking Blaise Zabini. And now Weasley was asking her in front of the entire Great Hall. Most of the conversations had quieted, waiting with bated breath her answer.

"You don't have do it, if you don't want," said Ron quietly, and from his expression, she almost thought he wanted her to say no.

"Give me a moment," said Daphne. "You caught me off guard."

Thoughts about the internal politics of Slytherin fluttered through her mind, followed by what she expected her family to think, and then, only then did she think about how she felt. Mostly it was just confused.

"Well, we've never really talked before, and—"

"Yes," said Daphne, cutting him off.

"What?"

"Yes, I'll go with you to the Yule Ball."

"Oh," Weasley looked surprised. As well he should, considering that Daphne was surprised she'd said yes, too. "Alright then."

"I'll meet you before the entrance just before 7. Don't be late."

"I-I won't," said Weasley, and he walked back towards the Gryffindor table, a little jaunt in his step.

"What on earth was that?" asked Tracey, whispering in her ear.

"No idea, Tracey."

* * *

Ron sat back down next to Harry, his stomach still full of butterflies. He had a date to the Yule Ball with Daphne Greengrass. Hermione leaned across the table and said, "Greengrass? Ron, what on earth possessed you to ask her?"

"It's none of your business who I attend the ball with," retorted Ron, thinking of her refusal to speak up her date.

"I—fine, be that way."

Ron patted Harry on the back. "Your turn, mate."

"Y-yeah," said Harry, and he swallowed nervously. Steeling himself, Harry stood and walked towards the staff table. He made eye contact with Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Poter, do you intend to ask me to the ball?" she asked.

"Er, yes?" said Harry.

"While I'm flattered, aren't there any students who you could take?"

"I made a bet…" Harry admitted.

McGonagall looked him straight in the eye, and said, "Mr. Potter, while I appreciate your forwardness, you really should ask one of the students to be your date. I am charmed that you would ask me, though."

Someone started clapping, and soon the whole hall was filled with applause. As Harry sat down, red-faced, Ron said, "McGonagall? You asked McGonagall?"

Fred stood up from his place at the table and put his hands on their shoulders. "Well, that was enlightening. Just for asking McGonagall, Harry, I think you win the bet. We'll still be wearing those ballet shoes, though."

"Right." Harry looked at his food dejectedly. "I still need a date."

"Think maybe you should have asked someone who'd say yes?" asked Ron. "Asking McGonagall was inspired, I'll admit, but you need the date more than I do."

"Yeah, I know." Harry turned his attention to his meal, and Ron joined him. But his mind couldn't help but think through the implications of his upcoming date. Daphne was one of the best looking girls in their year, and she was going with him? He'd been the envy of his classmates. They would all be jealous of him. They wouldn't really be jealous of his dress robes, though. The color drained from his face. He'd never be able to show up to to the ball in that, even more than ever.

* * *

Malfoy cornered Daphne in the Slytherin common room later that evening. "What do you think you're doing, going with a _Weasley_?" he half whispered, half hissed.

Daphne gave him one of her signature icy stares. "It's none of your business who I associate with."

"You think your father would happy with you being with a Gryffindor?"

Daphne intensified her stare, enough that Malfoy backed off a little. "I don't need help dealing with my own family—you can hardly deal with your own."

With that, Daphne turned and went to her dorm, collapsing on her bed. Why had she said yes? The only redeeming quality he had was his friendship with Harry Potter, and even that hadn't stopped them from having a row after Potter had been chosen as champion. Otherwise he was poor to average in his studies, had a rather big temper, and didn't have much—if any—table manners, if the glimpses she'd seen of him eating over the years were any indication.

He wasn't anything special.

Tracey came in and sat next to her. "Want to tell me what's up with you and Weasley?"

"There's nothing to say. I've never spoken to him before."

"There isn't anything else going on?"

Daphne sat up and looked at her friend. "What do you think is going on?"

"I haven't got a clue. I thought you were going to go with Zabini."

"I was. Or I was going to if no one else asked me." Daphne brushed a lock of blonde hair that had gotten free behind her ear. "I'm still trying to figure out why I said yes myself."

"Obviously you're just after the Weasley money," said Tracey.

Daphne scoffed. "The Weasleys have no money, Tracey."

"That was the joke, Daph."

"It wasn't funny."

"It wasn't supposed to be. Daph, you know that if you ever need to talk to me about something, you can."

"I know." Daphne nodded to her friend. "I'm going to bed."

"Night, Daph."

* * *

Ron spent the next week worrying about what he was going to wear to the ball. Whatever he did, he wasn't going to be wearing the raggy mess his mum had packed him. Without anywhere to really turn, he wrote Sirius, asking for his advice.

In the meanwhile, Harry managed to ask out Parvati Patil for a date, so he was covered for the ball. Hermione was still tight-lipped about who her date was, but Ron was starting to care less about it.

Two days after writing Sirius, Ron received a package at breakfast with dark red dress robes. They were either brand new or barely worn, and the note said:

Ron,

These were some robes that my younger brother wore. He might be a little mad they're being given to a lion, but they should fit you nicely. And remember: you're responsible for showing your date a good time.

Snuffles

Hermione frowned as she read the note. "Didn't your mum get you some dress robes?"

"Yeah. Terrible maroon ones. With _lace_."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry said, "It was good of Snuffles to do that."

"I think I've got everything I need for the ball, then." Ron stuffed in another mouthful of toast, and sipped his pumpkin juice. "Kinda nice not to have to worry about it."

Harry nodded in agreement. Hermione cut in and asked, "Did you manage to finish your Transfiguration essays last night? They're due today, and…"

* * *

Daphne endured more than a few sideways glances and hushed whispers in the two weeks before the ball, but other than a few concerned looks from Tracey, and a quick conversation with her sister Astoria, she didn't bother paying them any attention. She found herself glancing at Weasley in class, without meaning to, and mostly found what she expected to see. Weasley was unfocused, and more than once, she caught his eye. No matter. It would be one date, and then she could forget him and move on.

The night of the ball came sooner than she would have liked. And then she was getting ready, which involved more than two hours of makeup and hairdressing. She'd chosen a sky blue dress, and wore a necklace her father had given her two years ago for Christmas.

Tracey was going in a light pink dress, which matched very well with her dark brown side-braid. Her date for the night was Theodore Nott, and Daphne left her behind to wait for him in front of the Slytherin common room.

She climbed the stairs out of the dungeon, and wondered what kind of robes Weasley would wear. She hoped he'd managed to get something nice. As she reached the entrance to the Great Hall, she found herself unable to take another step. A million thoughts and regrets and wishes flooded through her head, but she shook them off and stepped around the corner.

Weasley was standing next to the grand staircase, looking about with a nervous look about his face. He was wearing dark red dress robes, which complimented his neatly combed hair nicely, and when he saw he, he offered her a smile.

So Weasley could at least dress up nice. That was a start. He came over and offered her his arm, which she took, and they went into the Great Hall. The house tables had been cleared away, replaced by a host of round tables that covered most of the floor, except right in front of the staff tables, where a space for dancing had been cleared. The twelve great christmas trees had been given a makeover, with silver garlands and gold baubles adorning them. Icicles now hung in the air, joining the candles already there.

Weasley leaned down and said to her, "You look good, Greengrass."

"Thank you. You managed to dress up nice. Where'd you get those robes?"

"Er, a family friend gave them to me."

"Really? Who?" It wasn't that she didn't think the Weasleys didn't have friends. But as Daphne had gotten a closer look, the robes were a fine silk, and she thought she saw several minor but complicated enchantments on them as well. Whoever these robes were from, they were well off.

"They're—it doesn't matter." Weasley's expression seemed evasive.

"I was only asking because they're fine robes. From what I know of your family, they don't seem like the type to invest in robes as good as these." Daphne hoped that felt non-confrontational enough. She didn't want to alienate her date before they'd even sat down.

"We're a simple family," said Weasley, and Daphne didn't push further. It'd be rude to bring it up more.

"Sometimes simple is good," said Daphne.

"Simple would've had me wear the robes my mum packed me. Horrible maroon color—with lots of lace."

Daphne pictured Weasley in what he'd described, and then shuddered. "Good thing your family friend came through, then."

"Yeah." Weasley cleared his throat, and asked, "So, where'd you want to sit?"

She looked around at the already seated couples, and spotted Malfoy and Parkinson on one end of the Great Hall. Nodding in their direction, Daphne said, "We'll avoid them."

"Definitely," Weasley agreed, and they sat on the other end of the hall, and her date remembered to pull out a chair for her. Daphne quietly added another point to his favor—at the very least, he was competent as a date so far.

The other couple sitting at the table was Michael Corner and one of the Patil twins, both from Ravenclaw, and Daphne thought they were innocent enough dinner companions. Ravenclaws insulted your intelligence, not your social standing. A minute later, though, Neville Longbottom and—was that Weasley's sister?—joined them at the table.

They'd barely exchanged pleasantries when the champions arrived with fanfare. First came Diggory and his date Chang—Daphne recognized her from the Ravenclaw quidditch team—and then Delacour and her date Roger Davies. There was an audible gasp as Krum entered with his date. Daphne didn't recognize the girl at first, only to realize it was Granger. Seeing them together was baffling. How had she gotten such a catch?

Weasley seemed to be just as shocked as she was. She leaned over and asked, "Did you know they were going together?"

He shook her head. "Hermione didn't say a thing about him."

"She cleans up nice," Daphne said, and Weasley just hummed in response. Probably better to not bring her up much tonight.

And then Potter came in with the other Patil twin, and the champions all took their seats at the high table, along with the tournament organizers. Dumbledore said a few words, before announcing the start of the meal. Plates appeared in front of each occupied seat, empty and waiting for an order to be placed. Daphne decided on a lemon parmesan chicken with steamed asparagus on the side, while Weasley ordered a large steak, and tore into it immediately. He did seem to be curbing most of his usual table habits, though.

After they'd gotten a few bites in, Weasley actually initiated the conversation, asking her, "So, Greengrass, what kind of interests do you have? I'm rather big into quidditch, myself."

A man of sports. Not that Daphne was surprised, given who his family was. "I do enjoy a good quidditch match; but I don't play. My father takes me to Puddlemere United games, and they play a good game."

Weasley sighed. "Seems like everyone I meet is a United fan. I prefer the Cannons, myself. They're have a good year one day."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "You cheer for the Cannons?"

Weasley nodded sheepishly.

"What a coincidence. They're my prefered team as well—though father agonizes that he hasn't gotten me to cheer for United—we own part of the team, after all, but there's just something magnetic about the Cannons that makes you want to root for them."

Weasley leaned forward earnestly. "I totally thought we had the game against the Tornadoes last week, but that last foul was bul—brutal."

They managed to talk quidditch all through dinner, and Daphne discovered that while he had only been to one Cannons game, he'd actually sat top box for the World Cup, thanks to a Ministry drawing, and that after school he was considering trying to go professional—he hadn't been on the team due to the previous captain being their Keeper, and was going to try for Keeper this year until it had been canceled.

Weasley's sister cut in a couple of times as well, but she was polite and didn't try to take over the conversation. Eventually the discussion moved from quidditch to Weasley's family.

"—Bill's a curse breaker at Gringotts, Charlie's in Romania at a dragon preserve, and Percy's working with Crouch at the Ministry. I think he's filling in for him tonight, actually." Sure enough, when Daphne looked at the head table, Percy Weasley was deep in conversation with Professor Flitwick.

"I see him."

"He can be a bit of a prat, though. He even sent me a letter warning against associating with Harry after he got chosen as champion."

"Warning about what?" asked Daphne.

"Harry's a glory seeker, apparently, and not a good influence."

"It does seem that way," said Daphne neutrally.

Weasley inhaled, and almost shouted, "Harry's not like that!"

"I never said he was," said Daphne quickly, before people looked their way. "Just that with all the things he gets wrapped up in, he comes off that way."

"It's not about glory," said Weasley's sister. "He saved my life last year from the basilisk."

"There actually was a basilisk?"

"What do you think petrified all those people?" demanded Weasley.

"It's just that basilisks aren't common, at all. You actually saw the beast?" Now Daphne was curious. She'd heard rumors, of course, but she hadn't heard from anyone who was there.

Weasley's sister nodded. "It was at least sixty feet long."

Daphne stared at her for a moment. "You're serious."

"Sounds right," said Weasley. "The snakeskin was pretty big."

"Sixty feet?" Daphne couldn't keep the incredulity out of her voice. "I haven't heard of one bigger than twenty."

"Well," said Michael Corner, butting in, "if it was Slytherin's monster, it could've been a thousand years old. If it was, I'd believe its size."

"I suppose." Daphne turned back to Weasley's sister. "How did he kill it?"

"I didn't see it," said Ginny, "but he killed it with the Sword of Gryffindor. It's in Dumbledore's office now."

"How'd he get the sword?"

"I think he got it from the sorting hat. That's what he told me afterwards, anyway."

"Why did he have the—no, actually, why don't you tell me the story from the beginning?"

Weasley's sister laid out her story, explaining how the heir of Slytherin had taken her into the Chamber of Secrets; then Weasley told his part of them figuring out where the Chamber was, including a nasty trip into the Forbidden Forest to see a an acromantula nest on the recommendation of Hagrid, deducing its location in the girl's bathroom, and their encounter with Professor Lockhart, and his deception and the subsequent fallout of his betrayal. Then Weasley turned it over to his sister again to describe what she knew of Harry's battle with the heir and the basilisk.

While Daphne found the story hard to believe, she couldn't deny that their story fit the series of events that had taken place throughout the school year, including the massive amount of house points the Gryffindors had received at the end of term and the subsequent disappearance of Lockhart.

By the time the two finished their story, the dance floor had opened, and the champions had already taken their obligatory first dance. Daphne led Weasley out onto the floor at the start of the next song. As he took her hand in his and put his other at her hip, he said, "Just so you know, I'm no good at dancing. I did go to the couple practice sessions McGonagall set up, though."

"Follow my lead, then," said Daphne. Daphne almost took away another point from Weasley, but if he really had faced down a horde of acromantulas, then she could forgive him for some stiff dancing.

But after he had trod on her toes one too many times, Daphne sighed, and said, "You're thinking about this too much, Weasley, so you're stiff. Imagine that each step is another quaffle coming your way, and they're coming at you in rhythm."

To her surprise, this advice was actually helpful, and they actually managed to keep tempo with the next song, which had a rather quick beat. When the song ended, Daphne was breathing hard, and she gave him a soft smile. "Better. I'm ready for a break and some drinks."

"Alright," he said. "I'll go get them, if you want to go back to our table. What d'you want?"

"Whatever they're serving for punch should be good."

Daphne made her way back to their table, and found that Potter was sitting there, alone. He nodded at her. "Greengrass."

"Potter." Daphne sat down. She paused. "Is it true that you killed a sixty foot basilisk to save Ginny Weasley in the Chamber of Secrets."

Potter's cheeks turn a light pink, and he said, "Yeah, I did. Though I couldn't have done it if Fawkes hadn't brought me the Sorting Hat and taken out its eyes."

"Whatever help you had, that's still impressive." Daphne studied him for a moment. "Weasley told me the story over dinner, so I was just curious."

Potter nodded. "We've been through a lot. I wouldn't have been able to get through them without Ron or Hermione."

"They seem like good friends."

Harry smiled. "They are."

Weasley arrived then with the drinks, and set hers down in front of her. Daphne thanked him and took a sip. Whatever was in the drink, it was stronger than she had been expecting, and the drink burned as she swallowed it. Daphne must have made a face, as Weasley asked, "Did you not like it? I can get another."

"No, it's fine," said Daphne. "Stronger than I was expecting."

"If you're sure, then," said Weasley. Then he turned to Potter. "How's it going?"

"I'm a little bored," said Potter. "How about you?"

"I've been having a great time. Greengrass is a great date."

Daphne felt some blood fill her cheeks, but Weasley didn't seem to notice. "After we've had some time to rest, I think we're going to go back out on the floor."

"Good for you," said Potter, and he took another swig from his drink.

"Will your date be joining us?" asked Daphne.

"Parvati's still out dancing. I might go find her later."

"Probably should sooner rather than later, mate," said Weasley. "You're responsible for showing her a good time, you know."

Potter looked at him strangely, so Weasley continued. "Advice from our shaggy friend."

That sent a look of recognition through Potter's face, and he sighed. "I guess I'll go find her, then."

"If you're having trouble dancing, just trying thinking of it like a quidditch drill," said Weasley as Potter left the table. "That was good of you," said Daphne.

"Just passing on the advice I've got, since it seems to be working," he said.

"Who's this shaggy friend?"

"The family friend I mentioned earlier," said Weasley.

"What's he like?" she asked, seeing if he'd saying anything more about him.

"He has a bit of a wild side," said Weasley.

Daphne took another sip from her drink—having had one sip already, she was able to better ignore the burning in her throat. "Would I know this person by name?"

Weasley nodded, and then seemed to think better of it, and shook his head. But he'd already slipped up. "So he's a person I'd know by name, then. Alright, I think I have a few guesses. What else can you tell me about him?"

"I'm not saying anything more. He's not—he's a private person."

But Daphne had herself a mission—to find out the identity of Ron's family friend before the evening was out.

* * *

Ron sighed to himself. He'd said more than he intended to about Sirius to her, and he could tell she wouldn't give this up. Sure, he could give a quick lie, but he'd rather not. He was actually enjoying his time with Greengrass, and he'd rather not spoil it with talk about Sirius. She seemed to believe him about the Chamber and his second year, but Sirius's story was even more far fetched. He took another sip from his drink, enjoying the way it burned down his throat. They were rather strong drinks, but Greengrass seemed to enjoy them well enough.

"Are you about ready to head back out?" asked Ron.

"Give me a moment." Greengrass down the rest of her drink, took a deep breath, and smiled. It was a bit odd—he hadn't seen her smile before, he thought. Ron offered her his arm and led her out to the dance floor. The song wasn't quite over, but he spotted Hermione off to the side, so he said to Greengrass, "I'm gonna go talk to Hermione real quick. I'll be back for the next song."

Greengrass nodded, and he made his way over to where Hermione was standing.

Hermione spotted him, and said, "Ron! I haven't seen you all night."

"Hermione! How on earth did you get a date with Krum?"

"Well, all those times he was in the library—he was actually there to talk to me, he just hadn't mustered up the courage. Then he asked, and I said yes."

"You'll have to get me—"

"Herm-one-ninny, I have brought drinks," said Krum, appearing by her side.

"Oh, Victor, thank you." Hermione took the drink.

Krum turned to him, and said, "You are vun of Herm-one-ninny's friends, yes?"

"R-Ron Weasley," he said. "I'm a big fan."

Krum grunted. Hermione looked to Krum, and said, "He's been my friend since first year."

"Yeah, but I had to fight a troll first," said Ron. Then he heard the song end, and said, "Oh, I've got to catch my date for the next song. Good meeting you."

As he walked back to Greengrass, he could hear Hermione trying to convince Krum that he needn't fight a troll to gain her friendship—and Krum agreed, saying that facing down the dragon he'd fought counted.

Ron laughed to himself, and found Daphne waiting for him just as the music started. As he took her hand, she asked, "What's so funny?"

"Krum's trying to one up me after I told him that I had to fight a troll to be Hermione's friend."

Greengrass looked confused for a moment, then that curious and unsure look came on her face again. "You don't mean you fought off that troll from first-year?"

"Knocked it out with its own club," confirmed Ron.

"How did that happen?" asked Greengrass. So Ron told her the story, and Greengrass gave him another awed look, the kind that made his chest puff up in pride.

"You're more than I gave you credit for, Weasley," she said. "But I guess you really belong in the lion's house."

Ron thought on it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"The robes helped, too," Greengrass added, and Ron realized she'd only said that to bring up Sirius again.

"Still not saying anything."

They danced in silence for a few minutes, and Ron found it harder and harder to look away from Greengrass's face. There was something captivating about the way her bright blue eyes were looking at him. They were softer than they had been at the beginning of the night.

Then Greengrass stumbled, and Ron caught her before she could fall. "Are you alright?" Ron asked quickly.

Greengrass winced, and said, "I think I turned my ankle."

"Let's go sit back down, then," said Ron, and she nodded, leaning against him as he led her back to their table. As she sat down, Ron asked, "Does it hurt much?"

"I think it's a bit more numb right now," said Greengrass. She pursed her lips. "Have you ever hurt your ankle before?"

Ron nodded. "At the end of last year, a mad dog attacked me and bit me on my leg. Hurt like mad, I'll tell you."

"How'd that happen?"

Ron thought quickly, and settled on a much abbreviated series of events. "Harry, Hermione, and I had just visited Hagrid before Buckbeak was executed, and we were just walking by the Whomping Willow, when the dog came running from the Forbidden Forest and attacked me. It tried to drag me away, but Professor Lupin was there a moment later, and sent the dog off."

"So the dog's still out there, then?" asked Greengrass.

"I think I might have seen it in Hogsmeade, actually," said Ron. "But I think it got out all of its people biting on me."

Greengrass raised an eyebrow. "How can you be sure?"

"A gut feeling, really," said Ron. "D'you want another drink?"

She blinked. "Sure."

"I'll be right back, then," he said, standing up.

"You'll have to tell me the rest of the story when you get back," said Greengrass.

"How'd you know there's more?"

There was a twinkle in her eye. "A gut feeling, really."

Ron chuckled, and went over to the drinks station, grabbing two more. He spotted Fred nearby, and walked over. "Oi, Fred!"

Fred looked up, and gave him a winning smile. "Brother of mine! How's been your evening?"

"Real good, actually. Greengrass's a good conversation. She's a Cannons fan, actually. How are your feet faring?"

Fred lifted up the hem of his dress robes, showing off his ballet shoes. "Just fine, thank you."

Ron nodded, and headed back towards his table. Sitting next to Greengrass was Percy, and they seemed deep in conversation. "—the point where he had to enter a tournament he shouldn't have been able to get into."

"That's not what he claims," said Greengrass.

"I don't buy his story about it. Not consistent with him at all."

"I think if he was that attached to glory, he'd be boasting about the sixty foot basilisk he killed to save your sister." Wait, was she defending Harry? To Percy?

That flustered him. "Well, that's hardly—sixty feet?"

"That's what your sister said—and she saw the dead thing."

At that point Ron sat down, and set Greengrass's drink in front of her. His brother turned his attention to him, saying, "Ah, Ron, good to see you. Did you get my letter, earlier?"

"I did," said Ron.

"And?"

"I thought about your advice, and after thinking about it, I've decided to trust Harry."

Percy turned a bit red. "He's leading you around the fence, Ron. If you—"

"If I what? You don't know what we've faced together. A troll, a cerberus, a nest of acromantulas, a basilisk, dementors, and Sirius Black!"

"You faced down Sirius Black?" said Greengrass, before Percy could say anything else. "I'd like to hear that story."

Percy looked like he was about to storm off, when Hermione and Krum came over. "Ron! There you are—we were looking all over for you."

"Oh, I was just at the drinks station."

"That would explain it," said Hermione. "Hello Percy."

"Hello Hermione," he said stiffly. "Your date?"

"Oh, of course. Victor, this is Percy, Ron's older brother—he works at the Ministry now, with Mr. Crouch."

Krum grunted, and turned his attention to Greengrass. "And this is Daphne Greengrass," Hermione continued, "Ron's date."

"You have good taste," Krum said to him.

Ron gulped. "You as well."

Hermione pinked, and Krum chuckled. Ron felt an inner victory—he'd gotten Krum to laugh. Then Greengrass said with a smirk, "Ron was just telling us some of his stories, and mentioned an encounter with Sirius Black."

Hermione looked at him sharply, but Krum, Greengrass—wait, had she called him by name?—and Percy all looked very curious. "I didn't mean to mention it," said Ron. "It wasn't much of anything anyway."

"Oh?" said Greengrass.

"If you remember the night that we slept in the Great Hall, that was because Sirius broke into my dorm room and stood over my bed with a knife in his hand."

"Oh my!" Greengrass—wait, should he call her Daphne now?—put a hand over her mouth. "I hadn't heard that—just that he'd gotten in the castle."

"I shouted bloody murder, and he disappeared. Scared right off." Ron didn't mention how scared he had been at the time. Looking back on it now, it was kind of funny.

Daphne—he was calling her that now—frowned. "Why was he over your bed and not Potter's?"

"D'you really think he was sane after all those years?" asked Ron, avoiding that he knew the answer why.

"I suppose." But the way Daphne was looking at him, she wasn't buying his story.

"Well," said Percy, standing, "it's been good visiting with you, but I should talk to a few more people before the night's over." And he left with a sad glance at Ron.

"Good talking with you," said Daphne.

While everyone was looking Percy's way, Hermione gave Ron a look that said 'we'll talk this over later'. Ron sighed. He supposed he talking a bit too much.

"Oh, I see Harry," said Hermione. "I'll go fetch him."

Once she had gone, Krum looked at Ron and said, "You have other stories?"

"I suppose I have a few," said Ron. It felt odd to have an idol of his asking him questions, but exciting as well. "How about the time I encountered a cerberus?"

Daphne and Krum both listened intently to Ron as he described how Malfoy had set them up, their subsequent flight from Filch, and then their encounter with Fluffy. Hermione arrived just in time to hear him quote her famous line: "You're going to get killed—or worse, expelled!"

That made Krum laugh again, much to Hermione's bemusement. When he didn't see Harry, Ron asked, "So what's Harry up to?"

"He's still with Parvati—she wanted to dance some more. Harry didn't look happy about that, but he stayed with her."

"He is a gentleman, then," said Krum.

"Naw, I just gave him a kick in the arse earlier."

Daphne spluttered as she took a drink, nearly spilling it on her dress. "Are you alright?" Ron asked. Daphne nodded sheepishly, wiping her chin with a napkin.

"What do you mean, kick in the—well…" said Hermione.

"Arse? He was pouting over here earlier, and I told him it was his responsibility to make sure his date had a good time."

Hermione gave him a strange look, so Ron added, "Advice from Sir—Snuffles."

"Oh, right."

"Good advice," said Krum. He turned to Hermione. "Herm-one-ninny, are you enjoying tonight?"

"I am," she said, smiling at him.

"How about you, Daphne?" asked Ron.

"It's been fun," said Daphne, and she smiled at him as well. He rather liked her smile, he thought.

"How's your ankle, then?" he asked.

"Feeling better, actually. I wouldn't mind going for another dance."

"Alright then." Ron stood up and helped Daphne to her feet. She tested her ankle, and Ron could see that she felt a little pain, but since she didn't say anything, he assumed she was fine.

The song playing was a slow one, which suited Ron just fine. He had to hold Daphne a little closer to make sure she didn't fall, which made him feel excited. He could see why girls liked to dance.

As the song changed, Daphne leaned a little closer, and whispered, "I think I figured out who your family friend is."

Ron pushed down a nervous jump in his stomach. Had he given it away? "Who?"

"It's Sirius Black, isn't it?"

"What makes you think it's him?" asked Ron, as his blood turned cold.

"There were a couple of things. First, you only called him by his first name—I wasn't sure what that meant, until I saw Granger give you a couple of strange looks when Black came up, like she was trying to tell you to be quiet. And then you nearly said his name."

Ron's mind was racing. He had been rather obvious, hadn't he? "If it is Black, what would you do about it."

Daphne pursed her lips. "There's clearly something else going on, otherwise you wouldn't trust him. He was in Azkaban for a reason, killing those muggles and that other wizard—whose name I don't recall."

"Wormtail—Pettigrew I mean—framed him, faked his death, and hid as my pet rat for twelve years," said Ron quietly. "He saw him in the paper when I went to Egypt, and broke out to kill him."

He could see Daphne's mind working. "Oh. Well. I wasn't expecting that as an answer. Goodness."

She thought a moment longer. "Don't worry, I won't say anything about it to anyone. But if that's true…"

They danced in silence for a while, until Ron stepped on her foot. "Oh, I'm sorry," said Ron immediately as Daphne winced in pain.

"It's fine. Let's just go sit back down."

He led her back to the table for the third time, and asked if she wanted another drink.

"Please." She was starting to look a little tired. Ron wondered what time it was, as he could see that the crowd was dancing getting smaller. Returning with the drinks, Ron sat next to Daphne, thinking.

Before tonight, he wouldn't have been seen with a Slytherin, but once he'd asked Daphne out, he couldn't back down. And it wouldn't have been fair to ruin her night based on that. So he'd set aside his initial thoughts, and now he was having a good time. If only he hadn't said anything about Sirius.

"Ron?" He looked up. "Since I figured out about…one of your secrets, it's only fair I share one of mine."

"Alright," said Ron slowly.

"It's a room I go to sometimes to relax—I don't know if anyone else knows about it." Daphne took a swig from her drink. "Finish your drink and I'll show you."

Ron downed his glass in the next moment, and almost gagged as it burned down his throat. Daphne giggled and said, "You didn't have to finish it that fast."

Ron cleared his throat, and said, "Probably shouldn't've." He felt a burp coming, and suppressed it, knowing it wouldn't impress her. Daphne finished the last swallow of her drink, as as he took her arm, he asked, "Where to?"

"Second floor and to the right," she instructed, and they left the Great Hall and went up the Grand Staircase. As they walked down the hall, Ron noticed that Daphne was leaning more against him.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked, as she directed them down another hallway. He'd been down here just a couple of times to cut between Divination and Transfiguration, but otherwise the hallway was empty, aside from a large tapestry that hung on the one wall, depicting a golden unicorn foal standing next to a waterfall and a rose bush.

"I'm fine," said Daphne. "I feel…a little dizzy. I'll be fine."

She stopped in front of the tapestry, and stroked the unicorn's mane. Then the wall opened inward, revealing a small room with a small fountain, an embroidered bench, and a suit of armor standing guard in the corner. The fountain featured a nymph lifting a bowl of water, which ran down into a pool with live water lilies. The embroider on the bench featured Jupiter and a number of its moons, and the armor had a spear and shield in each hand.

Daphne sat on the bench, watching the fountain. "I come here when I need some peace and quiet."

Ron sat next to her, and she rested her head against his shoulder. "It's nice," said Ron, trying to relax. He hadn't ever been in a room with a girl alone before. Not really—Hermione didn't count.

"I had a really good time tonight," said Daphne. "You're not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" Ron asked before he could stop himself.

"I thought you'd be lazy, rude, and selfish," she said quietly. "But you've—hic—oh no—hic—" She cleared her throat, and breathed out slowly. "But you've been polite and listened to me, and—hic—when you told me all you been through with Potter and Granger, I realized that—hic—I didn't know who you could be."

As Ron listened to Daphne talk, he could feel a pit forming in his stomach. "And who could I be?"

"Brave, loyal, willing to fight for your—hic—friends, and not afraid to do what's right. I didn't really know what that meant, before."

"And that's me?" Ron felt the pit in his stomach tighten.

"Maybe. From what you've told me, yes." Daphne took a deep breath, and looked at him; she hiccuped again. "Maybe it's stupid to say that after just one date."

"Thanks for saying it." Ron rested his hand on Daphne's, and he couldn't stop the tingling in his fingers. "I know I'm not like my brothers, or Harry, or—"

"They wouldn't have given me a date like this one," said Daphne, suddenly confident and smiling. "I don't—hic—stupid hiccups." And she turned away.

"You should smile more," said Ron. "It suits you."

She met his eyes and smiled again. "Like this?"

Ron nodded. His heart was racing. The pit in his stomach clenched. Her face was so close. Her breath tickled.

Then she kissed him.

* * *

A/N: This story is being written as part of NaNoWriMo, and I'll be posting progress when I feel like it. I don't have an upload schedule planned, but at the pace I'm writing, there should be one every week or so.


	2. Chapter 2: Changes and Regret

**Chapter 2: Changes and Regrets**

Daphne woke the next morning with an odd pounding in her head. She barely had time to recognize her surroundings—why was she in her secret room again?—before she bolted for the fountain and threw up. Once she'd finished vomiting, did she look around the room again. Weasley was asleep on the bench, wearing his dark red dress robes. That's right, she gone with Weasley to the Yule Ball. No, Ron.

Daphne sat back, wincing as she put pressure on her ankle. Come to think of it, her thighs were rather sore, as well. She glanced down at her dress, and sighed. Wrinkled

The headache returned with a vengeance, and she groaned. This felt like what her Uncle had described as a hangover—had someone spiked the punch? That would explain the strength of the drinks.

She turned her attention to her memories of the previous night. She'd shown Ron the fountain room after she'd figured out something about Sirius Black—she'd remember what it was later—and then she'd kissed him. She'd only meant to give him a short kiss, but then—

Daphne felt her face burn. She hadn't meant to, but it had felt so perfect at the time, and then—

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. She paled.

She crawled over to him and shook him. He groaned and turned over. That caused him to fall off the bench, and he hit the ground with a thud and a curse. He sat up, rubbing his shoulder, and then his forehead. "What happened?"

Before Daphne could answer, he lurched, and vomited onto the floor. He wiped his mouth with his robe, and then looked down at it sadly.

"Ron," Daphne started, "last night…"

He looked up, and for a moment, with bed hair and his face spouting drool and vomit, Daphne regretted that this was the boy who'd taken her virginity. He frowned. "Wait, last night, we—we did that, didn't we?"

Daphne nodded, and then held back a sob. She'd imagined her perfect wedding night for so long—and now that vision was in shambles, thanks to some alcohol and a good date.

"Daphne—Greengrass, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…you know…" Ron trailed off, looking down.

"I didn't either. But it happened." Daphne felt a trail of wetness trace down her cheek, and she wiped the tear away.

"So what happens now?" Ron asked.

Daphne thought a moment. "We go back to our dorms, and pretend this never happened. If anyone asks where we were last night, just say that I fell asleep on you, and that you stayed to watch over me."

"It's not that far off from what happened," said Ron. "And then…?"

"You keep looking at me like I have a plan," said Daphne, snapping at him. "I don't. I didn't plan any of this."

Ron scooted over and wrapped his arms around her hesitantly. "You're right. I'm sorry." Daphne leaned into the embrace, just to feel comforted, if only for a moment. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. After a moment, Ron withdrew, and said, "We should talk in a few days, once we've thought this through."

Daphne nodded. "We can talk here. Wednesday morning?"

"Ok." Ron stood up and offered her his hand. She took it, ignoring her sore ankle. He offered her an awkward smile, and turned to leave.

"Ron." He turned back. "Despite how it ended, I had a good time last night. Thanks for taking me to the ball."

"It was my pleasure." He had a real smile now, and she returned it. Then he left, and Daphne was alone with her thoughts. She sat back down on the bench, and let the tears come.

* * *

Ron exited the secret room, only to find Harry and Hermione standing outside the door, looking at the tapestry. "What're you guys doing?" he asked.

"We came looking for you when Harry realized you didn't come back to the dorm last night," said Hermione. "We've been trying to get past this tapestry for at least ten minutes."

Ron considered telling them how to get into the room, and decided against it. "Daphne showed me the room last night." He stretched, yawning, and set off down the hallway. "I need to wash up. Harry, how was your date last night? I didn't see you after you sat down with us."

"It went alright, I guess," said Harry. "Parvati kept me on the dance floor too long, and by then you'd left, so we went to bed shortly after."

"You at least escorted her back, right?"

Harry nodded, but before he could say anything, Hermione came up alongside them and said, "Don't think you can change the subject, Ron. Tell us what happened."

"Well, Daphne fell asleep, and I didn't want to leave her, so I stayed, and fell asleep myself."

Hermione didn't look entirely convinced, so Ron asked, "Have you two had breakfast yet?"

"No," said Harry.

"Then I'll meet you in the Great Hall once I'm finished washing up." And Ron strode forward, leaving his friends behind.

He got a few strange looks as he walked through the common room, but fortunately his brothers weren't around to pester him as he climbed into the shower. As he let the hot water run down his body, he couldn't help but think of Daphne. She'd summed up his feelings earlier—he'd had a good evening, up until—well.

It wasn't that it had been bad—it was the stigma. Ron hadn't been planning on doing anything of the sort until he was older—preferably when he was married. And he thought Daphne felt the same. If they'd kept to an intense snogging session, they'd have both been embarrassed, but since they'd gone a step further, it added a layer of complication.

In some ways, Ron was glad they wouldn't talk for a few days. He had too many conflicting emotions to sort through, but perhaps the biggest feeling of all was the desire to be with her more. Somehow, he'd gotten her to smile, and that excited him.

Of course, it all could be physical attraction. Daphne was very beautiful, and he'd only spent one night with her. But he couldn't help but want there to be more. And that surprised him. He had gone into the evening trying to forget that she was a Slytherin, and sometime during dinner, he had.

Ron stepped out of the shower, dried himself quickly, and rushed to breakfast. Harry and Hermione would be waiting, and he knew they'd have more questions for , the Great Hall had returned to its usual organization, so Ron plopped down next to Harry at the Gryffindor table, piling his plate with muffins. Hermione had already finished her oatmeal and whatever had left crumbs on her plate—toast crumbs, looked like—but Harry was still eating a banana.

Before either of them could say a word, Ron said, "How was the party after I left?"

"Didn't stay much longer, really," said Harry. "Though we did sit down and Krum and Hermione came and talked with us."

"Was that at a different table? Cause we stopped by ours for a minute before leaving."

Harry shook his head. "Must've been after you left. He asked if we had to fight a troll before becoming friends with Hermione."

"That was a petty thing to do, saying that he'd have to fight something to gain my friendship," said Hermione, looking at him crossly.

"I never said that," protested Ron, pausing mid-bite.

"You implied it." Her glare didn't lessen.

"Well, maybe, but it was funny." He turned to Harry and said, "He had to claim the dragon fight as grounds for the friendship."

That caused Harry to chuckle, and Hermione exclaimed, "Not you too!"

Ron took another bite of his muffin, and Hermione faced him. "More importantly," she said, "We need to talk about you almost giving away Snuffles."

Ron swallowed. "Honestly, I didn't mean to bring him up. It just sort of slipped out."

"Did she figure anything out?" asked Harry.

His thoughts racing, he tried to see if he could answer without lying. No, better to tell the truth. "She asked about my robes earlier, and then there was his advice, so yeah, she did."

"Ron, you know how important it is to keep secret," Hermione hissed. Harry was looking at him, disappointed.

"I know, I know," said Ron, trying not to get angry. "I'll be more careful."

"She's not going to say anything, is she?" asked Harry.

"She said she wouldn't," answered Ron. "I did tell her that he'd been framed."

"You didn't say where he was, did you?" asked Hermione.

Ron shook his head, and then wished he hadn't, as his headache came back.

"You alright?" asked Harry.

"Headache," said Ron. "D'you think someone spiked the punch last night?"

"Dunno," said Harry. "I didn't have much to drink last night."

Hermione pinked a little, though. "Something happen last night, Hermione?" asked Ron.

"N-no, nothing happened," she said firmly.

"No?" said Ron. "Not even a little smooch between you and Victor?"

Now she was bright pink. "Nothing of the sort happened."

Ron leaned over to Harry. "Sounds like she got a good snogging session in."

Hermione stood. "Ronald Weasley!" Her expression changed from outraged to smug. "I suppose you were up to nothing with Greengrass in that room."

"We had a very nice kiss," said Ron, as straight-faced as he could.

"Was I the only one who didn't get a kiss last night?" lamented Harry.

Ron leaned over again. "To be fair, mate—you didn't really deserve one."

Harry sighed glumly. "Yeah, I guess."

Ron took the chance to take another bite from his muffin, only to see Daphne come in the Great Hall. She met his eyes, and then Ron looked away. She'd cleaned herself up, and had her typical stone-cold expression on her face.

However she was presenting herself, he hoped she was okay.

* * *

Daphne was not okay. She'd had a good cry in the fountain room, and that had helped, but now she just felt empty. As she entered the Great Hall, she saw Ron, Potter, and Granger sitting at the Gryffindor table. She met Ron's eyes, but he quickly looked away.

She sat down and tried to push any and all thoughts having to do with Ron out of her head, instead, focusing on her breakfast. Two sausages, two pancakes, a slice of bacon, and a scoop of scrambled eggs found their way onto her plate, and she started picking at them with her fork.

Then Tracey's voice carried through the Great Hall, saying, "—already checked the Great Hall. I think—Daphne!"

Daphne looked over to see Tracey and Nott standing at the entrance of the Great Hall. Tracey hurried over, worried, while Nott followed along at a more leisurely pace, a tired expression on his face. As Tracey sat down next to her, she said, "Daphne! Where have you been? I've been looking for you for at least an hour!"

"Around," she said, taking another small bite of egg. It was starting to get cold, but Daphne didn't feel like putting in the effort to cast a warming charm.

Tracey lowered her voice. "You didn't come back to the dorm last night. Weasley didn't try anything, did he?"

Well, he hadn't done anything she hadn't led him to do. "He wouldn't be sitting there if he had," she said neutrally.

Tracey didn't look so sure. "Where is around, anyway?"

"He showed me to a secluded spot. It was rather romantic, actually." Daphne had better plausible deniability if it was Ron who took her to the fountain room—she'd never mentioned it to Tracey before, and she wouldn't go into more detail now.

"Weasley? Romantic?" Tracey looked back between Ron and her, as if to say, really?

"You didn't come talk to me last night, so you didn't see his killer moves." Technically, Potter had done the killing—Ron had just described it. His sister too, she supposed. Though he hadn't made any major missteps, other than when he had stepped on her sore ankle.

"From what I saw last night," said Nott, introducing himself into the conversation, "Weasley seemed like a decent dancer."

"He was better with his words," said Daphne, taking a bite out of her sausage. "Like when he told a story about how he was so scared of a spider he escaped in a flying car. Very heroic."

"Daphne, are you alright?"

Daphne considered that for a moment. Then she shoved aside her plate, and said, "I'm not hungry."

As she stood up, she saw Tracey give Nott a concerned look, but she didn't really care. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here," said Tracey.

"I'm fine, Tracey."

And she left the table before she could cry again.

* * *

The next two days dragged on, and Ron could hardly wait for Wednesday to come. His friends noticed his impatience, and Hermione commented, "You know, Ron, you seem a little—too…attached. For one date, at least."

"You've only been on one date with Krum," Ron said in return. That quieted her verbal concerns, but Ron could see bother her and Harry sharing quiet glances when they thought he wasn't looking.

He occupied himself by getting his holiday homework done, which Hermione actually approved of. It helped to crush his restless spirit.

The only other conversation of note was with George. It was after lunch on Monday, and he managed to sit next to him. "Oi, George."

"Hm? What can I do for you, o brother of mine?"

"Just wanted to know—did you spike the punch?"

George shook his head. "If we had spiked the punch, there would have been very different symptoms. But I've heard through the grapevine that there were at least three attempts to spike it. For what I heard, some batches were affected more than others. "

Now assured that his decisions (and Daphne's) had been more than influenced by alcohol, Ron was left wondering what to do with that information. Oh, the only reason you had sex was because you were too drunk to consider otherwise. It didn't feel genuine, even if it was true.

Finally, Wednesday came, and as Ron woke up, he realized he hadn't set a time to meet her at, so he rushed through his morning routine and headed off to the fountain room. He stroked the unicorn's mane, and he was let in to find that Daphne wasn't there yet. That left him alone with his thoughts.

He'd played out what their conversation would look like in his head constantly, and now that the conversation was impending, none of the scenarios he'd thought of seemed to fit. How should he greet her? Were hugs okay, since she'd accepted the one he'd given her the morning after?

Before he had too much to doubt himself, the door opened, and Daphne walked in. She hadn't done up her hair, and was just wearing casual clothing. "Hey," said Ron, standing to greet her.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He couldn't manage better than 'hey'?

"Hey," Daphne said back. There was a short pause, and Ron began to feel the weight of the situation fall on him. The pit he'd felt before this had all happened? It was back, and with a vengeance.

"D'you want to sit down?" Ron asked.

"I suppose it's better than standing," said Daphne, and she sat down with him. After another long moment—Ron could feel the pit in his stomach pull on him another six feet. "I—" "Daphne—"

"Were you going—" "I thought you were—"

They both stopped, and if the context had been less serious, Ron might have laughed. "You go first," said Ron, finally.

"All I was going to say was that I had no idea where to start."

"Me either." Ron looked at his shoes, and hated once again how beaten up they were, compared to the elegant flats Daphne wore. "What do you think you need to tell me?"

Daphne let out a long breath, and seemed to fold up in on herself, like a turtle, and Ron resisted the urge to put his arms around her. "I only ever accepted the date to see if you made you look bad."

The words hit like a gut punch. "I only asked because of a bet."

Daphne started laughing, but Ron could see the tears in her eyes. "We're both fools, then." She wiped her eyes. "I thought I'd be getting a bad date with poor manners, and I kept a running tally of when you did something wrong or when you did something right. And then you kept getting points in the right column, and you told those stories, and it was like you were a different person. Then I figured out your connection to Black, and felt like I had to make it up to you."

"Why?" Ron asked, his voice almost croaking.

"Because…because it was an important secret—one you shouldn't've shared. The kind of secret Dumbledore should know, not me."

"He knows."

Daphne nodded. "I thought as much. And when we were in here, it felt like the perfect moment, and—and…I wanted to see what it was like, kissing someone."

Daphne's voice softened, and broke. "And then…and then I gave myself to you, and—" Tears streamed down Daphne's face, and Ron couldn't stop himself any longer, and wrapped her in a hug.

Daphne pushed back and shrieked, "Don't touch me!"

Ron recoiled, the pit in his stomach cracking and twisting. "Daphne, I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't think you can take advantage of me, Weasley!" she snapped.

"I—Never," said Ron.

"Never?" Daphne stood up. "Then what would you call that night?"

"Now hold on a moment—"

"No, I won't!" Daphne's face was red and splotched, her eyes a cold blue. "Did you think I wanted this? Any of this? I thought—I thought, after hearing your stories, that maybe—maybe you'd actually be a Gryffindor I could respect!"

The pit in his stomach shattered, and Ron roared with fury, "Like I'm the only one to blame! You were the one who took us here! You were the one who kissed me! You were the one who pulled up my robes! You—!"

And then he saw the fear in her eyes. The tear stains on her cheeks. The way her fingers trembled. Ron bowed his head. "You were the one who wanted to know me. You were the only who said that I was brave, and loyal, and that I could stand out by being me. Me! Ronald Weasley! You—your smile, it…I—I'm sorry Daphne. I shouldn't've shouted. I shouldn't've let things go too far. Maybe I shouldn't've have even asked you."

"Don't say that," said Daphne. "Don't you dare say that. Just because we went to far doesn't me we shouldn't have tried."

"What does that make us now, then?" asked Ron.

"I still don't know."

"Is there any chance that what we had that night continues?" Daphne looked up at him, and he quickly added, "Not the sex part."

"I…I want to say yes. But I can't. Not yet."

"I'll wait for you, then," said Ron. "Next Hogsmeade weekend—tell me before then."

"…Alright."

Sensing that the conversation was about over, Ron started to leave. But Daphne grabbed his elbow. "Ron, whatever happens, I won't forget you."

Ron's throat dried up. "Me neither, Daphne." And he walked out the door.

* * *

Daphne watched Ron leave the fountain room for the second time, and felt a longing to go with him. Shaking her head, she sat back down on the bench. She'd gone into the meeting ready to rebuff him, to tell him that she wanted nothing more to do with him—but she couldn't do it. Couldn't tell him that 'they' would never become a thing.

And now she had three weeks to consider if she wanted any possibility of 'they' to happen. On one hand, it reassured her. She didn't have to make a decision now. On the other, it scared her. Ron had awakened feelings she'd repressed for years. She wasn't called the Ice Queen for nothing, and Ron just barreled over her mask. That terrified her.

It terrified her because she wanted more.

Daphne sat on the bench for another fifteen minutes, and just watched the fountain trickle, the soft sounds of running water helping to soothe her excess thoughts. Once again, this room was helping to calm her down. She'd found it two days after she'd learned that her mum had come down with a severe case of Dragon Pox, and she'd had a good cry. She'd come every day for two months, until she got word that her mum was on the up and over.

Nowadays, she came by once or twice a month to relax, when Malfoy or Parkinson were particularly vicious, or she did poor on an assignment, or had a row with Tracey. Then she'd shown Ron the room, and her feelings about the place got all the more complicated.

Daphne stood up—it was better if she didn't linger. Tracey would want to know all about her meeting.

Her friend was in the library, reading the latest Witch Weekly, and when Daphne approached, Tracey looked up, and her eyes lit up with curiosity. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," said Daphne, sitting across from her. "He asked me to Hogsmeade."

"And?" Tracey asked.

"I said I'd think about it." Daphne rested her cheek against her hand. "I'm in two minds about it."

"I think you should turn him down," said Tracey.

"Why?"

"Well, you're clearly not good for each other. I mean, he's a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake." Tracey put her hand on Daphne's. "He's loud, rude, and runs away from spiders, apparently."

"Swarm of acromantulas, actually, but continue. Tell me all about the misconceptions I had about Weasley before I went on the date."

"Acromantulas? You said spiders," said Tracey, confused.

"He told me about an adventure he went into the Forbidden Forest to complete on the advice of Hagrid, and ran afoul of the acromantula nest there."

Tracey opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and said, "Oh."

"I'm more trying to sort out how I feel about him. Because is loud and rude, sometimes. But from the stories he tells, he's got more going for him." Daphne bit her lip. "Add that I kissed him…"

"You didn't tell me that!" said Tracey, a little hurt. "Still...are you really thinking that Ron Weasley of all people is going to be a good match for you?"

"I suppose not," said Daphne, but internally, she wasn't so sure. And that's what made it complicated. On paper he didn't look good at all—but in person he'd been so much more likeable and engaging. "I've still got a couple of days before he wants an answer back. I'll think it over a bit more. Thanks for talking with me."

"Any time, Daph. I'm here for you."

In the end, Daphne decided to turn him down. The first potions class they shared after break ended, she walked over to him before class started, and said in a low voice, "So, Weasley, after thinking about it, I've decided against Hogsmeade."

Ron's jaw twitched, and said, "Alright."

"This isn't a no forever," she said, even quieter. "Just a no for now."

"I understand."

And she walked back over to the Slytherin side of the room. As she took her place next to her cauldron, Malfoy came over and asked, "What was that about, Greengrass?"

She met his eyes, giving him as cold a stare as she could. "Turning him down."

And Malfoy smiled. That stung, in a way that it hadn't before. He only said one word before turning back to his cauldron. "Good."

Professor Snape came in in the next moment, and once class began, Daphne could spare little time to think about matters other than potions, but she did catch Ron's eyes several times throughout class, and they looked sad, and a little confused. Daphne tried to signal her apology through her glances, but she didn't know if she succeeded.

She didn't see Ron out of class afterwards, or even much at all throughout January. They passed by each other in the halls twice, and the first time, Daphne said an awkward greeting, but when Ron passed her by without so much as a second glance, she didn't try the second time.

But things changed the moment February arrived. She woke up that morning with a heavy wave of nausea, so much so that she had to rush to the toilet to throw up. She remained nauseous for the better half of the morning, but when she didn't have any other symptoms, she went about her day, with a concerned look from Tracey.

Any chance of it being a one off went away the next morning, when she again felt nauseous. It wasn't enough to make her vomit, but it was still distracting enough in Charms that she almost missed being called on by Professor Flitwick to perform the banishing charm they'd been practicing the past two weeks.

It was on the third day, as she finished her business with the toilet bowl, that Tracey raised her concerns. "Are you sure you're feeling fine? Shouldn't you see Madam Pomfrey about this?"

Daphne sat down on the edge of her bed, and sighed. "I guess I should."

And she went, explaining to the medi-witch her symptoms, and letting the matronly woman work her diagnostic charms. After a half minute of casting, she frowned, and tried a few others. "Ah, I've found the issue. You aren't sick, my dear—you're pregnant."

Daphne went very white.

* * *

 **A/N:** NaNoWriMo has been going well, even though I started late. I've managed 2.5k a day for the past week—we'll see if that holds for Thanksgiving week.


	3. Chapter 3: I'm Pregnant

**Chapter 3: I'm Pregnant**

Ron was just sitting down in History of Magic, when McGonagall entered the room and said, "Mr. Ron Weasley, the headmaster would like to see you."

He picked up the book bag he'd just set down, and asked, "Did he say what for?"

McGonagall pursed her lips. That wasn't a good sign. "It will be explained when you arrive, Mr. Weasley."

Ron stood up, gave Harry a quizzical look, and followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall and up the staircase to the second floor. He was led down another corridor to a large stone gargoyle stood. McGonagall said to the gargoyle, "Cockroach Cluster," and it moved aside to reveal a spiraling staircase. McGonagall ushered him up the stairs to a large wooden door, which she knocked upon twice.

"Enter," said Professor Dumbledore. The door swung open, revealing the headmaster's office to be full of all sorts of gadgets and whizamadoos, along with a large collection of portraits of previous Hogwarts' headmasters. Dumbledore was sitting behind a large desk, and Daphne was sitting across from him. Her back was turned, but as soon they entered, she turned to look at him. She was very pale.

"Mr. Weasley, please have a seat. Professor McGonagall, if you could so kind as to fetch Professor Snape?" McGonagall nodded, and left, closing the door behind her. And then Dumbledore's attention fell on him, and Ron suddenly felt the weight of his headmaster's glance. There wasn't any joviality in his twinkling eyes, but expectation and trust. "Now, Miss Greengrass, would you like to share, or shall I?"

"I—Ron, you see…" Daphne trailed off, took a deep breath, and looked him square in the eyes. "I'm pregnant."

The moment before she said it, Ron realized what she was about to tell him. But hearing her say it—that pit that had been gnawing at him all month clamped down, like a millstone onto a wheat bran. "Daphne, I'm so sorry. I—"

Daphne gave him a sad smile. Hesitantly, Ron put a hand on her shoulder. Professor Dumbledore spoke after a moment, tenderness clear in his voice. "I realize this is a hard thing to process. Take your time. Your Heads of Houses are informing your parents as we speak."

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. "Ron, I don't know what to do."

Dumbledore folded his hands on the table, and said, "Mr. Weasley, as I told Miss Greengrass earlier, this is not the first time such an incident has occurred at the school. Typically, the students are a bit older when this has happened, but at your age it isn't unprecedented. Now, Hogwarts does not provide childcare, but with the timing of the babe, Miss Greengrass will be able to finish out the year, as long as there aren't complications. It would be possible to give her two months of maternity leave at the start of next year, but my recommendation has been to take a full year off to raise the child, and then return for their studies. Of course, all of this is pending parent approval."

Ron nodded, and looked to Daphne again. Never had he seen her as timid as she appeared now. He gave her shoulder a light shake. "Daphne, I promise to be with you in this."

"You aren't mad?" Her voice sounded so small.

"No—I could never be mad about this." And he wasn't. He was disappointed with himself, for letting things happen this way. He wasn't ready to be a dad.

Merlin, he was going to be a dad.

There was a knock at the door, and McGonagall's voice said, "The Weasleys are here, Professor Dumbledore."

"Let them in."

And she did. Mum was angry—he could see her apoplectic rage lying beneath the surface, but she'd tempered it with pure maternal love. Dad had a straight face, but Ron could see in his eyes that he was disappointed.

Dumbledore continued speaking, saying, "I presume that Professor McGonagall filled you in on the situation?"

"Yes, she did," said Dad tersely. "Can we be expecting the Greengrasses to be joining us?"

"Professor Snape is contacting them as we speak," said Dumbledore. "Once he returns, we'll begin discussing what our next steps will be."

Silence fell on the room, and Ron felt the sweat roll down his neck. He'd removed his hand from Daphne's shoulder, and now he was fidgeting, trying to occupy himself while bringing as little attention to himself as possible.

After what felt like an hour (probably more like ten minutes), Professor Snape returned, his face cool and collected for what Ron felt was the first time he'd been so while in his presence. "Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass were unavailable—their house elf had been left home and instructed not to interrupt a business meeting they were participating in. I left a letter in her care, but they will not receive it for another two hours."

"Thank you, Professor Snape. Since Miss Greengrass's parents are unable to speak for her, I would appreciate your presence here as her Head of House."

"I will have to cancel my morning class with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs," said Snape.

"An acceptable loss." Dumbledore grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled a short note. "Hatty!"

A house elf appeared, saying, "What cans I be doing for you, Professor Dumbledore, sir?"

"Please deliver this note to the potions classroom explaining the cancelation of the class for an incident of student discipline."

"Yes, sir, Hatty will do." And holding the note in hand, the house elf disapparated with a pop.

Once she was gone, Dumbledore returned his attention to the room. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I would like first to inform you that while both your son and Miss Greengrass will have punishments assigned, neither of them will be expelled. I will let them explain themselves in a moment, but wished to begin with that in mind." Dumbledore turned to Ron. "Mr. Weasley? I already heard a version of events from Miss Greengrass, but I wish to hear your testimony, as well."

Ron gave a brief account of the events that took place during the Yule Ball, and watched his parent's faces throughout. Dad kept a cool face throughout, until Ron mentioned that the drinks had been spiked several times by different people, though Ron quickly added that he didn't think Fred and George had anything to do with it.

Once he was finished, Dumbledore asked Daphne, "Do you have anything to add, Miss Greengrass?"

"No, he covered everything." Daphne met his eyes. He'd covered everything aside from the Sirius Black stuff. That wasn't really relevant right now.

"At this time, I would go over Miss Greengrass's options with her parents, but, seeing as they are not with us, I will let Professor Snape speak with her. Rest assured that if worse came to worst, there is a fund set aside for these situations."

Daphne nodded, and she looked reassured.

"Now," continued Dumbledore, addressing his parents, "I'll show you to a room where you can discuss things with your son. If you would follow me?"

They stood up one by one, and Ron lingered for a second, meeting eyes with Daphne. The corner of her lips curved upward, smiling one more time—for him.

And then he followed his parents down the stairs.

There was a small room two doors down from the headmaster's office, and Dumbledore let them inside and closed the door. There wasn't much to the room—a few broken chairs, a desk, and a wooden cabinet with panels carved with each of the four mascots of the houses.

"Ron," said Dad, putting a hand on his shoulder, "before we say anything else, we want you to know that, as your parents, that we love you and want what's best for you."

"You're our son, and that isn't going to change," said Mum.

"And sometimes you're going to make mistakes. Like what happened on the night of the Yule Ball. I understand that there were extenuating circumstances with the amount of alcohol involved, but drunk or not, you made a poor decision."

Ron's mouth was very dry. "I know. I messed up big time."

"There are some mistakes that only hurt yourself, like the time I was fiddling around with the battery in the car and shocked myself," Dad continued. "And then there are mistakes that hurt other people. The Greengrass girl—she's now carrying your child. I was thinking that I was going to have this conversation with Bill first, but you get it first instead. Children are an enormous responsibility, and not one you should take lightly, as you aren't married to her.

"Now, some wizards might shove all the responsibility to the witch and bugger off, but I expect better from you. I know you haven't known the girl long, but I want to hear what you think you should do."

Ron looked his dad straight in the eye. "Dad, the moment I heard, I promised her I'd help however I could."

At that point Mum enveloped him in a hug, and he could hear her quiet sobs. "Mum, it'll be alright," said Ron. "We'll work things out."

Dad joined the hug a moment later, and for just a second, Ron let himself dissolve in their embrace. And then he stepped out of the hug. Both Dad and Mum were smiling at him. "If you ever need help or have questions, we're here for you," said Mum. "We love you."

"I know, Mum. I love you too."

"Now, before we go home, we'd like to go and meet the girl," said Dad. "Daphne, was it?"

"Yeah," said Ron.

"Let's see if Professor Snape's done talking with her," said Mum.

Dumbledore was waiting outside his office, leaning against the wall. "Ah, finished already?"

"I think we covered the major things," said Dad. "Is Professor Snape still with Miss Greengrass?"

"Yes, but they should be done shortly, I think," said Dumbledore. "I assume you wish to talk with her?"

Mum nodded. "She must feel so overwhelmed, especially without her mother her."

"Once—"

But Dumbledore was interrupted by the gargoyle opening up to reveal Snape and Daphne. If the headmaster was at all fazed by this, he didn't show it. "Professor Snape, have you any more need of Miss Greengrass's time?"

"Not at this time." And with the flutter of his black cape, Snape strode down the corridor, but not before he gave Ron a glare that could kill daisies.

"Did you need me for something, Professor?" asked Daphne.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley expressed interested in having a longer talk with you," said Dumbledore.

Daphne's gaze snapped to Ron, and when he gave an encouraging nod, she said, "Okay."

Mum smiled at her. "Don't worry, dear. We just want to have a little chat and get to know you."

"The room you talked in previously is at your leisure," said Dumbledore. "I am, of course, available, if my presence would be desired."

As he was about to climb the staircase, he said, "That offer goes beyond today. Raising children is a great responsibility, so if you are in need of guidance, or have questions or concerns, my office is open to you."

"Thank you, Professor," said Daphne.

Dad held open the door, and they all filed in the room. Mum took out her wand, and waved it at the broken chairs in the corner, summoning them to the center of the room, repairing them, and covering the wooden seat with a cushion. After they'd sat down, Mum said to Daphne, "Tell us about yourself."

* * *

Daphne looked to both of Ron's parents before saying anything. His mother had a kind smile on her face, and it was easy to imagine her as a busy mother of seven. His father seemed relaxed but serious enough for the situation. Ron had described him as easy-going, but he wasn't today.

"I'm a fourth-year in Slytherin, and—" Daphne thought she saw a flash of unease cross Mrs. Weasley's face, but didn't know how to respond. "—I have a sister two years younger, also in Slytherin. My father has a business in producing potions ingredients and apothecary supplies. My best friend is Tracey Davis, and we share a dorm. I like sewing, reading, and quidditch; I cheer for the Cannons."

Mr. Weasley beamed at that, which made Daphne smile as well. Mrs. Weasley took the pause to ask, "And how much do you know about our family?"

Daphne laid out what Ron had told her, other than that there were tensions with Percy, though she mentioned that she'd met him at the ball, and seemed to be doing well for himself. From the expressions on the Weasley's faces, Percy wasn't a topic to dwell on. So she asked about Ron's other brothers, and got regaled with tales of Charlie's dragon reserve and some of Bill's exploits as a curse-breaker for Gringotts.

From there, the conversation turned to Daphne's family, and she told a few stories of when she was growing up. Her favorite was the tale of Astoria's first use of magic when she was four. She'd just been refused a unicorn as a gift, and so changed the tree pattern on her father's pajamas to unicorns. Father had gotten her a unicorn stuffed doll after that to reward her for her magic.

They talked for over two hours, until Ron's stomach growled, and they decided to break for lunch. The Weasleys were planning to stay until they were able to meet with her parents, so after asking Professor Dumbledore if they could have a meal served in their room, a table was set up for them by the house elves. Before lunch was served, Daphne begged off to use the bathroom.

The nearest toilet was on the first floor, outside the Great Hall, so Daphne quickly went down the stairs and freshened up. But when she exited the bathroom, she saw a house-elf waiting for her. It was Twilly, her family's house elf.

"Twilly is bringing Miss Daphne a letter from her father," said Twilly. He had a sad look on his face, and only when Daphne saw the letter did she realize why. The envelope was bright red, and beginning to shake.

Her father had sent her a howler.

Knowing that delaying it would only make it worse, Daphne took the howler from Twilly. Her fingers trembled as she broke the seal, preparing herself for the onslaught of her father's anger.

The howler rose into the air as soon as the wax was broken. "DAPHNE CYRELLA GREENGRASS! HOW DARE YOU BRING SUCH SHAME UPON OUR FAMILY?! PREGNANT AT FIFTEEN?! AND WITH A WEASLEY?! I HAVE NEVER FELT SO HUMILIATED IN ALL MY LIFE!"

Daphne bowed her head, tears threatening to burst out. A crowd from the Great Hall was gathering, clambering to see who had received a howler.

"WHEN I ARRIVE AT HOGWARTS, WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A CONVERSATION ABOUT THE DISGRACE—"

" _Incendio Maxime_!"

The howler burst into flames, screaming as it burned down to ashes. And Ron was there, dashing down the staircase, his face contorted with fury. Cheers came from the crowd. He took her hand, and said, in a voice promising retribution, "Come on, Daphne. We're going to have a talk with your _father_."

Daphne could hardly see through the tears streaming down her face, and she let Ron lead her up the staircase. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and looked back down at the crowd. Tracey's face stared up at her, incredulous and hurt. No doubt because Daphne hadn't confided in her about any of this. Twilly was no longer there, gone back to her father.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived at the top of the stairs, both red-faced and angry. When Daphne reached the top of the stairs, Mrs. Weasley wrapped her up in a hug and said, "To use a howler for this—" Mrs. Weasley pulled back. "We will be having words with him about this."

They walked back to their room, where their food had been laid out. None of the plates had food yet, and they sat down wordlessly. Mr. Weasley indicated they should start, and then said to Daphne, "If things don't go well with your father, know that Molly and I was willing to help."

And Daphne started to cry again. She hadn't ever cried this much before, not even when Nana had passed away. "Why are you being so kind to me?" she asked. "You just met me today. I—I messed things up with your son. I'm a Slytherin. I'm—"

Mrs. Weasley reached out and took her hand, rubbing her thumb over her fingers. "You're a scared girl who needs someone to be there for her."

"And if no one else can help, we will," said Mr. Weasley.

Daphne picked up her napkin and dried her tears. "I—thank you."

Mr. Weasley gave her a calming smile, and said, "Now, let's eat. We'll revisit this when your father comes."

During lunch, Ron talked with his parents about what he'd been up to at school, how Harry and Hermione had been doing, and what the tournament had been like. Watching them smile and laugh, and remembering how they had stood for her in their anger, Daphne couldn't help but wish she could share this.

* * *

Daphne's parents arrived twenty minutes after they'd finished lunch, at precisely 1:00. Hatty the house-elf alerted them to their arrival in Dumbledore's office, and they all went up as soon as they heard. Ron felt that pit in his stomach once again, but he tempered the nervousness with the memory of the howler.

Daphne's father, Cyrus Greengrass, was tall man, with short-cropped blond hair and a mustache. His silk robes were a mix of greens, layered on each other. His wife, Faith Greengrass, had dark hair, which was tied up in a bun, and wearing light purple robes and a gold necklace.

As soon as Dumbledore had introduced him, her father took one look at him, and asked, "You're the boy that got my daughter pregnant?"

"I am, sir," said Ron, remembering to be polite.

"You don't look like much." Before Ron could shout out an outburst, Dad put a hand on his shoulder.

Daphne spoke out instead. "Father, you—"

But he interrupted her. "I am trying to do what's best for you, Daphne Cyrella, after you thought having relations with this boy would be appropriate. Professor Dumbledore, I would like to withdraw my daughter from Hogwarts, effective immediately. Private tutoring will have to do."

"Hang on," said Ron, "you can't just do that."

Mr. Greengrass turned back to him. "You'll find that I can, boy. Best to keep this matter on the down low."

"Fat chance of that with the howler that screamed it out for everyone in the Great Hall to hear," said Ron.

"I put charms so only Daphne would hear," said Mr. Greengrass.

"The charms didn't work," said Daphne, and her father whirled around.

"What do you mean the charms didn't work?" he demanded. "I cast them myself!"

"The howler was loud enough for us to hear near here," said Dad.

For a moment, Mr. Greengrass looked overwhelmed, but he schooled himself, and said. "Well, this changes things. Mr. Weasley, I would like to have a word with your son in private."

Mum stepped forward. "If you think—"

But Dad stopped her. "Molly, it's okay." And he nodded to Ron.

"The room you were in earlier should suffice," said Dumbledore.

So Ron led Mr. Greengrass down to the room, and held the door for him. If Mr. Greengrass noticed the courtesy, he didn't let it show.

"Let me get straight to the point," he said after Ron had closed the door. "What are your intentions towards my daughter?"

Ron thought for a moment. "I promised to be with her and the baby," he said, finally.

"And what do mean when you say you'll be with her?"

"That I'll help her with what she needs and support her in whatever way I can. And that I'll help raise the baby."

"And if doing that required you marry her, would you?"

"I would," said Ron. "I don't know Daphne that well, but I don't want to hurt her any more. I've already done enough of that."

Mr. Greengrass nodded, and began to pace. Ron stayed still, waiting as the seconds passed by. Finally, Mr. Greengrass stopped and faced him. "Ronald, here is what I'm proposing. You'll be betrothed to Daphne, and come stay with us over the summer, when you'll be married. I will be free to cancel the arrangement if I see fit."

"I'd be honored to marry your daughter, sir," said Ron.

"Better than you deserve." And Mr. Greengrass walked past him to the door. "I'll need to speak to your parents about this."

"Not Daphne?" asked Ron. "You aren't going to ask her what she wants in this?"

Mr. Greengrass stopped at the door and sighed. "She knows her role."

And he left the room.

* * *

As soon as her father and Ron left the room, her mother came over and hugged her. "Mum. Oh, Mum, I'm so sorry, I—"

"Shush, it's alright," said her mother. "It'll all be okay. Your father's taking this very hard. But we'll work things out."

Daphne nodded, and took a deep breath. From the moment her father had walked through the door, she had realized just how scared she was. Scared of what he might say. Scared of how Ron's family would react. And scared of how she felt.

The moment Ron had burned her father's howler to ashes, she had known that Ron was a man she could love. All those conflicting emotions she'd felt after the ball had faded away, leaving behind a longing to be with Ron.

She could see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley trying to give her space to reunite with her mother, but it wasn't a private moment, and Mum recognized it. "Tell me about Ron."

"Ron's the quintessential Gryffindor," said Daphne. "Brave, caring, and willing to fight for his friends. He's big into quidditch, and he cheers for the Cannons."

"That's wonderful," said Mum. "But what do you mean, fights for his friends?"

"Ron defeated a mountain troll in his first year to save a friend," said Daphne.

"Ron did what?" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley?"

Daphne blinked. Apparently Ron had kept some of his adventures close to the chest. "That's how Ron said he became friends with Granger—Hermione."

"We can talk with Ron about that later," said Mr. Weasley to his wife.

"That's rather impressive. I take it that's not the only incident he's told you about?"

"He's told me a few others," confirmed Daphne.

"Oh?" Mrs. Weasley looked eager to listen. "Like what?"

"I'm not sure I should say," said Daphne. "I only have hearsay."

At that moment, the door opened, and Ron and her father returned. There was a certainty in both their faces that gave Daphne a little hope.

"Ronald and I have talked," said Father, "and I have decided to extend a betrothal contract to him. I'd like to talk over the details with you, Mr. Weasley." Daphne sucked in a breath.

Mr. Weasley looked at Ron, who nodded back. "Back to the room downstairs, I suppose," he said neutrally. "Ron, you should be here for this as well."

"Alright."

* * *

The men left for about half an hour, during which Daphne told her mother how she'd met Ron, their date, and their interactions since then. Mum and Mrs. Weasley also exchanged pleasantries to better know each other.

When the men returned, they had hashed out an agreement about the betrothal, but her father and Mr. Weasley would be meeting again the following day to sign a legal document. After that, Ron would be her betrothed.

The thought of it sent a flutter through Daphne's heart.

After that they said their goodbyes, which left Ron and Daphne standing by the gargoyle. Ron looked at her and said, "I suppose we should talk. Best to do it someplace private?"

Daphne nodded, and they set off for the fountain room in silence. Being on the second floor, it wasn't much of a walk, but during the trip there, Daphne found her hand holding Ron's. Not that she minded.

Once they were in the room, they sat on the bench. Daphne leaned her head on Ron's shoulder. "Ron, thank you."

"What for?"

"Everything."

The sound of the fountain trickled in the background.

"Daphne?"

"Hm?"

"I know it'll be signed with papers tomorrow, but I want to do it proper." He knelt, and, taking her hands in his, he looked her straight in the eye and asked, "Daphne, will you marry me?"

She could barely manage to say yes before she was hugging him and crying in his embrace.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving. I had a good time with my family. Writing is still going well.**


	4. Chapter 4: New Normal

**Chapter 4: New Normal**

Ron held Daphne for a good minute, and his chest roared with pride. Just this morning he had been wondering if they'd ever even talk again, and now they were going to get married. It was all very surreal—and Ron feared that he might wake up and this all to be a dream.

But Daphne was real, and his arms were wrapped around her.

Dad had given him three pieces of advice after the betrothal details had been worked out. The first was that relationships depended on expectations being met—and that those expectations were often unspoken. The second was to listen more than he spoke. The better he listened, the better they'd do. The third was that he should die for her every day. Marriage was hard work, and if he went in prepared to die every day, he'd do better.

The advice scared him. But, when Ron thought about it, it should. He was promising his life to someone else. If that didn't scare him, then he didn't know what he was doing.

Daphne pulled back, a teary smile on her face. Ron rose and sat back next to her. "So, we're getting married," he said.

She giggled. "Yes, we are. What about it?"

"My dad said that we should set expectations—that things would work out better if we did."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Okay."

"So, what do you expect from our marriage?" asked Ron. Our marriage. That felt weird to say.

Daphne looked off at the fountain, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and didn't say anything for a long moment. "I expect—no—I want…" She sighed. "It feels like I'm demanding things of you."

"Then I'll say no to every demand," said Ron.

"I want to break up," she said immediately.

"No."

"I want to hit you."

Ron shook his head. "No."

Her voice was much quieter. "I want to kiss you." She faced him, and for a moment, she looked unsure.

"I guess I don't have to say no to everything."

And he leaned forward and kissed her. It wasn't like their first kiss—that had been full of energy and passion. This kiss was curious, like the first glimpse of a sunrise.

When they broke apart, Daphne wore a shy smile. "Was that what you wanted?" asked Ron.

She bit her lip. "It's a start."

Ron laughed, and she joined him. She leaned against him, and said, "I want a happy life."

"I'll see what I can do," said Ron. "Anything else?"

"I want to see you every day," she continued.

"Okay."

"And lots of kids."

"A Weasley tradition."

"And to do well in school."

"I'll help you study."

Her last request was so quiet he struggled to hear it over the trickle of the fountain. "I want you to love me."

Instead of answering, Ron put his hand against her cheek, and kissed her again.

When they broke apart, she asked, "What do you want?"

And Ron thought. "I want a happy life."

"Okay."

"And to see you every day."

"Okay."

"And lots of kids."

"Working on that now."

"And to do well in school."

"I'll help you study."

"I want you to love me."

Daphne leaned in.

* * *

It was only when Ron asked her what she wanted from their marriage that Daphne realized that she didn't know what she wanted. Sure, she had general ideas, but in the specific, Daphne hadn't put much thought.

Even expressing those general wants had been difficult. Ron had looked at her expectantly, and once she started talking, he accepted her requests without a second thought.

She'd turned the tables on him after he kissed her, and when he asked for the same things she had, Daphne realized how blessed she was. She'd been so scared in the morning of what he might think, what he might say, what he might do, but the moment he knew he'd promised to be with her. And he had. Even standing up to her father to protect her.

"If we're going to be seeing each other every day," said Ron suddenly, breaking the silence, "then we'd better figure out how we're going to do that."

"Let's figure that out tomorrow," said Daphne.

"Is there a reason why?"

"I want to talk to Tracey and get my classwork for the day."

"Alright. We'll talk here after dinner?"

Daphne nodded. "Was there anything else you wanted?"

Ron looked away, a hint of red in his cheeks. "A-another kiss."

She smiled, and pecked him on the cheek. "That's all you're getting for today."

Daphne left the fountain room and started toward the Slytherin dorm. They had a free period in the late afternoon, and Tracey would most likely in the dorm.

But as soon as she reached the dungeons, she was accosted by Potter and Granger. They didn't have potions, so she wondered why they were there, or if they had been waiting for her to come that way.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"We want to know what's up between you and Ron," said Potter.

"And you're asking me because…?"

"Because we wanted to hear it from you first," said Granger, eyeing her with distrust.

Daphne sighed. "Ron and I will be betrothed tomorrow."

Bother of them reacted with shock. "Betrothed?"

"Then you're really pregnant?" asked Granger.

Daphne nodded. "Was there anything else? Or would you like to tell me how you found me?"

"Well, er…" Potter and Granger shared a glance. "We'll be on our way."

They left quickly, and Daphne continued walking back to the dorm.

But before she could enter the Slytherin dorm, she was interrupted yet again, this time by Malfoy and his two goons. "Turned Weasley down, did you, Greengrass?"

Daphne tried to move past Malfoy without answering, but he blocked her path forward.

"Ah ah ah. You're not going anywhere until you answer my question, Greengrass. Unless it was your cowardice that attracted Weasley to you?"

"Stand aside Malfoy, or I'll hex you."

Malfoy drew his wand in return. "That's not answering my question, Greengrass."

"Would you hex a pregnant woman?" asked Daphne. "I doubt you want a blood feud on your hands."

"So quick to misconstrue my intentions," said Malfoy. "I'm not going to hex you. Just answer my question, Greengrass."

"Are you jealous, Malfoy? Is that why you're doing this?"

Malfoy scowled. "I'm not jealous of Weasley. Though if you have any other quips at my honor, feel free. I won't forget them."

Daphne considered her options. Finally, she lowered her wand, and said. "I did turn Weasley down. But my pregnancy complicated things. Weasley's taking responsibility, a word you wouldn't know."

For a moment, Daphne thought Malfoy might hex her, but he just lowered his wand. "You'll regret this one day, Greengrass."

And he walked past her. Both his goods bumped her on the shoulder as the passed, and Daphne sent back icy glares.

Tracey was waiting the common room, but when she saw her, she just looked back down at the textbook she was reading.

Daphne walked over to her friend. "Tracey?"

She answered without looking up. "Did you need something?"

And Daphne recalled the expression on Tracey's face, when she'd overheard the howler. "Are you going to ignore me?"

Tracey flipped to the next page.

"You're mad, aren't you? That I didn't tell you."

Flip. Tracey turned another page. Daphne clenched her fist. Tracey was a slow reader, so she was turning pages just to appear disinterested. "We promised not to say anything, you know. That's why I didn't tell you."

Tracey hesitated as she prepared to turn another page. Then…flip.

"I was going to tell you first thing I could, but then father sent the howler. Trust me, Tracey."

Flip. "It's hard to be friends with someone who shags a Weasley."

"Pansy put you up to this, didn't she?" said Daphne, pointing a finger at Tracey. "You'd turn your back on me because of this?"

Flip. "I wasn't the one who shagged a Weasley."

And Daphne stormed away, tears threatening to fall down her face.

* * *

Ron didn't see Harry or Hermione anywhere in the library, so he was about to start back to Gryffindor tower when they ran into him at the entrance. "Where've you been running off to?" asked Ron.

"Looking for you," said Harry. "We need to talk."

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "Today's been a crazy day. Where to?"

They eventually settled on a bay window on the fourth floor, and while they walked, Harry and Hermione shared what they'd learned in class. But as soon as they were sure they were alone, Harry said, "Okay, spill. What happened?"

"I don't know if you heard the howler or not, but the gist of it is that I got Daphne pregnant, and we're betrothed."

Hermione slapped him. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For being an idiot."

Ron considered. "Fair enough."

And so he described the events of the day, starting from when he'd been pulled from class and his initial reaction, the meeting with his parents, the howler, and talking with Daphne's father.

"So you're technically not betrothed yet," said Hermione.

"Technically. Although I asked Daphne to marry me afterwards, and she said yes, so…"

Harry shook his head. "It's weird to think that you're getting married."

"You think it's weird? Imagine what I'm thinking! I'm scared as hell."

"At least you're taking responsibility," said Hermione. "If you hadn't, I don't think we'd be friends anymore."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," said Ron. "But there's no way I'd leave her to do it by herself."

"You've changed, Ron," said Harry. "You're more—I don't know—mature."

"I don't feel more mature," said Ron. "I guess I've just been thinking more about what I need to do, now."

"I think that's what being mature is," said Hermione. She paused. "Does this mean you're going to study more?"

Ron made a face, and they all laughed.

As soon as Ron entered the Gryffindor common room, later that afternoon, he was accosted by a number of others, including his brothers, Neville, Dean, and Ginny.

"Ron, what was with that howler?" "Did you really get a girl pregnant?" "You sure got a hot one!" "When were you going to tell us?"

Ron held up his hands, and said, "Alright, one at a time."

Neville stepped up first, surprisingly. "Did you really get her pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Ickle Ronnie-kins, so grown up now," said George.

"I thought I'd give you a niece of nephew to spoil," quipped Ron. And Fred and George turned to each other, grinning and rubbing their hands back and forth.

"What was the howler about?" asked Angelina Johnson, appearing from the back of the crowd.

"Daphne's dad was a little upset," said Ron. "I made sure to straighten him out, though."

"What are you going to do about the baby?" asked Ginny.

"Daphne and I are getting betrothed to keep the baby," said Ron. "Anyone else?"

"How was the lay?" asked Lee Jordan.

"That's none of your business," snapped Ron, and a few people laughed. Ron glared at them, and the laughs stopped.

"Have you thought of baby names?"

"I'm not naming my baby Lavender."

There were a couple more questions, but it was soon time for dinner, and Ron was able to escape with Harry and Hermione down to the Great Hall.

Daphne was sitting by herself, and she kept glancing at the gaggle of other girls at the table. Her friend Tracey was sitting in the middle of them, and Ron realized something was amiss.

He mentioned that to Hermione, and she said, "Daphne's a target now. And everyone knows it. Tracey might've jumped ship."

"That's horrible," said Ron.

"That's Slytherin," said Hermione. And Ron wished he could run over and sock Tracey in the jaw, but knew that despite how good it might feel, it wouldn't solve anything.

Daphne left before he did, so Ron would have to wait until tomorrow to talk to her. He hoped that he was wrong about Tracey, for Daphne's sake.

* * *

The next morning, Daphne woke up feeling sick again. Today she managed to get away with only feeling nauseous, but she ate a light breakfast all the same. Astoria came and sat next to her not long after she sat down.

"Is Father still angry with you?" she asked.

"No," said Daphne. "We talked after he sent the howler."

"You're really going to have a baby?"

"Yes." And Astoria stared at her belly in awe.

"Can I feel?"

Daphne laughed. "You won't be able to feel anything yet. The baby's only a month old."

"Oh." Astoria looked around. "Where's Tracey?"

Daphne swallowed. "She…might not be my friend anymore."

"What? Why?" Astoria looked confused.

"Because she wants to be friends with Pansy," said Daphne, after a moment.

"That's a stupid reason." Her sister looked over to the Gryffindor table where Ron was sitting. "Are you getting married?"

"I am."

Astoria's eyes lit up. "Really? When?"

"It hasn't been decided yet. Father's working it out with Ron's father. It'll probably be this summer, sometime."

"Are you excited?"

Daphne smiled. With all the things going on, she hadn't had time to think on her wedding. "I will be."

Astoria looked at her critically, and asked, "Are you alright, sis?"

Daphne gave the only answer she could. "I don't know."

Seeing her expression, Astoria asked instead, "When do I get to meet him?"

"I'll talk to him tonight and see what he says," said Daphne. She didn't want to promise anything, as Astoria hated being let down.

Classes that day couldn't be over soon enough. Her housemates were totally ignoring her, to the point that Professor Flitwick called her over after class to offer congratulations and condolences.

"I know that this is a hard situation for you, but if you need help, come to my office and we can talk. I hope that some of the girls come around, but we can't force them to."

Daphne thanked the diminutive professor, doubting she'd take him up on her offer. The only authority Pansy's gaggle of girls would accept would be Professor Snape's, and she wasn't about to go to him after only a day of mild annoyance.

Ron was already in the fountain room when she'd finished supper, sitting on the bench. Daphne sat next to him, and asked. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good, actually. I just had Charms and Transfiguration today. How about you?"

"Potions, Charms, and History of Magic." Daphne shrugged. "Astoria wants to meet you."

"Okay. We could hang out this weekend. You could introduce me to Davis, as well."

Daphne bit her lip. "We're not on speaking terms right now."

Ron looked confused. "What? Why?"

"Because 'it's hard to be friends with someone who shags a Weasley.'" If there was bite in her tone, Daphne didn't care.

"She didn't!" Ron's face was flush with anger. "The nerve of that—girl."

"She'll come around," said Daphne. "This isn't the first time we've fought."

"Still, some friend she is."

"Was there any truth to you having a fallout with Potter after he became champion?"

"I—fair point," Ron ground out. "Should I ask Fred and George if they want to come?"

"Ginny too," said Daphne. "Might as well get as much family as we can." When she saw Ron's face, she added, "You can ask Harry and Hermione, too."

"Thanks." Ron let out a breath. "Where'd you wanna meet?"

"Why don't you figure it out?"

Tapping his knee for a moment, Ron said, "I wonder if Hagrid would host."

"No," said Daphne. "We're not going to that oaf's place."

"Hagrid's not an oaf!" said Ron. "He's a good friend!"

"Which I don't doubt," lied Daphne, "but I don't trust his hospitality after what I've heard about those Blast-Ended Skrewts he has."

"Fine, I'll think of something else."

Before Ron had time to stew, Daphne changed the subject. "What else did you want to talk about?"

"I'm not finished with my potions essay that's due Friday yet," said Ron. "I was going to ask Hermione, but then I thought ask you for help instead."

"Alright, that's something we could go over, but it'll be easier to do in the library," said Daphne. She'd finished her essay on Saturday, after all.

Ron nodded. "Right."

* * *

Eventually, Ron decided on having the gathering in one of the classrooms Harry had practiced his summoning charms in with Hermione, and asked the house-elves to prepare a lunch for them as well. Dobby enthusiastically took charge of planning, promising a good meal.

Fred and George promised to attend, and Ginny agreed to as well, after a bit of cajoling. But it was Harry that took a bit of convincing to be there. "I've got to keep working on figuring out how to finish the second task," he said apologetically.

"It'll only be for an hour or so," said Ron. "Come on, mate—it's over lunch, too, and you'll eat anyway. Dobby's cooking."

When Harry still looked unsure, Ron added, "It'll mean a lot to me."

Harry relented, and Ron informed Daphne that night of his plan, and she liked it, telling him that Astoria was looking forward to it. After that, they worked on their Charms and History of Magic homework. Daphne prefered working on homework in the evenings, which suited Ron just fine, unlike Hermione, who used her free periods to do it and dragged Ron and Harry into them as much as she could.

Saturday rolled around, and Ron made sure he was up early. He'd arranged for everyone to meet at 11, but he wanted to make sure he wouldn't miss it at all, as he liked a bit of a lie in on the weekends.

He also made sure to get to the room early, to make sure it was still good to use, which it was. Pushing together three desks to make a table, he took out a tablecloth Dobby had lent him and put it overtop the makeshift table. Then he placed eight chairs around, and admired his work. It wasn't much, but it was good enough to Ron's inner decorator.

Of course, good enough for Ron wouldn't match Daphne's tastes, but he figured if he paid attention, he could find out what she liked. He just had to pay attention.

Ginny was the first to show up, ten minutes early. She took several glances around the room, sighed, and said, "Nice try, Ron, but the room needs more work."

"What d'you mean?" asked Ron. "I got the table set up and everything."

"That's serviceable. But the atmosphere is all wrong."

"What do you suggest?" Ron followed Ginny's gaze around the room, from the cupboards in the corner, to the assorted desks and chairs on the left side of the room, and the empty chalkboard in front.

"Organizing the desks so they're straight would be a start. If we had a nice curtain, we could put that over the chalkboard."

"I don't think we have one."

Ginny scowled. "Honestly, you should have to me sooner about this. It'll look like a mess."

"Ginny, it'll be fine. It's not that big a deal."

She sighed again, and helped him organize the desks and chairs, and after they'd finished, Ron had to admit it did look better.

Harry and Hermione walked in at that moment, and Ginny hissed to him, "You didn't tell me Harry was coming."

"I would have thought it obvious." He turned to Harry. "Glad you could make it, mate."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't getting much more done in the library than crossing my eyes. Some of the stuff I'm looking up is…dense."

Hermione was inspecting the room with a slight frown on her face, so Ron cut in before she could comment on the room. "I know the room could be better, but it's just a casual meetup."

"I think it's fine," said Harry.

Daphne and Astoria walked in a moment later, and as soon as Astoria saw Harry, her blue eyes widened. "You're Harry Potter!" she exclaimed.

Harry looked embarrassed. "That's me."

Astoria said to Daphne, "You didn't tell me Ron was friends with Harry Potter."

"Everyone knows Ron's friends with Potter," said Daphne, nodding to him.

"Greengrass," said Harry.

"Oh, you can call her Daphne," said Astoria, not catching the flash of irritation on her sister's face. "I'm Astoria."

"Nice to meet you," he said, and shook her hand.

Ron stepped forward, shaking her hand as well. "And I'm Ron. This is my friend Hermione, and my sister, Ginny."

Ginny and Hermione shook Astoria's hand as well, and they all sat down at the table. When everyone looked to Ron, he said, "Once Fred and George get here, we'll eat. Astoria, why don't you tell us about yourself?"

Her eyes lit up, and immediately began speaking. "I'm thirteen, I'm a Slytherin—second year, I like sewing, and rabbits, and unicorns, and my favorite color is periwinkle. My favorite class is potions, and my favorite professor is Professor Lupin."

Ron couldn't help smiling at that declaration, and noticed that Harry and Hermione were as well. "He is really good," agreed Harry.

That gave Astoria an awe-struck smile, and she launched into her favorite lesson from him on bowtruckles. But Ron noticed that Ginny was sneaking scowls at Astoria when she thought no one was watching. When Astoria finished her retread of her favorite lesson, she asked Harry, "What was your favorite lesson?"

That gave Astoria an awe-struck smile, and she launched into her favorite lesson from him on bowtruckles. But Ron noticed that Ginny was sneaking scowls at Astoria when she thought no one was watching. When Astoria finished her retread of her favorite lesson, she asked Harry, "What was your favorite lesson?"

He didn't have to think on it. "Well, I was having a hard time with the dementors, so I asked him for help, and he taught me the patronus charm."

"What's that?"

Harry looked to Ron, and he nodded. He knew Harry had learned it, but hadn't ever seen it, truly, before.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

And a brilliant stag of light burst from Harry's wand, and pranced around the room. Immediately, Ron felt as if there was more joy in the world. The stag came to a stop next to Astoria, and she passed her hand through the stag in wonder. "This is amazing," she said, giggling.

"Quite the sight," agreed Fred, as he and George came in. "Golly, Harry, where'd you learn this?"

"Professor Lupin taught me. It can fight off dementors."

"Really?" asked George. "That sounds useful."

"It also scares off Malfoys," added Ron. "Remember the quidditch game against Ravenclaw last year?"

"Oh, yeah," said George. "Knocked him right over, it did."

Neither Daphne nor Astoria had been at the game, so Fred, George, and Ron detailed the account, that Harry had, after catching the snitch, gone to fight off a rogue dementor that had appeared. Only it was Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, instead, and they had gotten in trouble for impersonating the dementor.

Daphne seemed to enjoy the story more than Astoria did, and when it was finished, Ron announced lunch. "Dobby, lunch, if you please."

Dobby brought lunch—a collection of sandwiches, fruit, and vegetables with dip—and they quickly got underway eating. The conversation soon got into quidditch, which Hermione didn't, and Astoria appeared not to, enjoy.

Ron shifted the conversation to Ginny after that, and she took to it, bolder than she normally was around Harry—Ron suspected it was Astoria's presence.

From there the conversation went from topic to topic, but Ron made sure that everyone present had a chance to talk about something they wanted to. Hermione had found a great book while researching for the second task, George had pranked Lee with his own tarantula, Fred had been working on a new potion that was looking promising, Ginny had come across Sir Cadogan again, this time terrorizing a painting of Vikings, and Daphne shared about her morning sickness—something she hadn't mentioned to Ron yet.

Hosting was more difficult than Ron had imagined, as he had to keep track of the conversation, who was doing the majority of the talking, who looked like they were being left out, and steer towards something more neutral. Hermione and Ginny seemed to get left out the most, as the twins and Astoria geared the conversation, and the twins dragged him in more than others, and Astoria dragged in Harry and Daphne more than others. Daphne seemed to see what he was doing, and tried to include Hermione and Ginny whenever she could.

But overall, the lunch went well, and by the end, everyone seemed to have had a good time. Astoria asked to see Harry's patronus one more time, and he obliged her.

As the corporeal stag looked around the room, Astoria asked, "Could you teach me how to make one?"

Harry seemed frozen, but Hermione came in, saying, "It's a dead useful spell—it saved our lives last year, after all. Maybe he could teach all of us?"

That seemed to make Harry more nervous. "Well, er, I'm rather busy with the tournament right now."

"It wouldn't have to be a long lesson," said Daphne, considering the idea. "Maybe an hour a week."

"That could work," said Hermione.

Harry looked to Ron, but if he was seeking escape, Ron wasn't there to give it. "Hermione's right. It's the kind of spell you hope not to need, but if you do, you want to have it."

"I suppose," said Harry.

Astoria squealed in delight, and Daphne had to put a hand on her sister's shoulder to calm her down.

"We'll see you next week, then," said Fred.

"Great meeting you all," said George, and the two of them left. Ginny left then, as well, and Harry had research to continue. Hermione looked torn between staying to help tidy up or go with Harry, but Ron waved her off.

"I'll have enough help with Daphne."

"Oh—right. Bye."

"I'm here too," said Astoria.

"I never said you weren't," said Ron, seeing that she hadn't caught the hint. "But I'm sure you've got more fun things to do than clean."

"If I'm here it'll go faster."

"Astoria," said Daphne, "he's asking to be alone with me."

"Oh. Oh. Thanks for the lunch it was good see you next week bye!" And Astoria dashed out.

Ron chuckled, and Daphne smiled after her. "Astoria's not one much for romance," she said.

"Is that what you have planned?" asked Ron.

"Work first," she said, wearing a coy smile.

It didn't take much to restore the room to its previous state—Dobby had taken away the plates earlier—so they only needed to put the chairs and desks back in place.

"I thought that went well," Ron commented as he set down a desk.

"Better than I was expecting, after Astoria saw Harry," said Daphne. "She's been infatuated with him since she heard the stories from the books, and I forgot about that to prepare her ahead of time. I hope she wasn't too much a bother to Harry."

"He held up well enough," said Ron. "Harry closes up if he's nervous."

"You think he'd be more used to his fame."

"He was raised by muggles," Ron pointed out.

"I guess."

Ron set the last of the chairs behind its desk. "Did you want to talk here, or…?"

"We've been to the fountain room a lot," said Daphne. "Here's fine."

"So…romance."

"If you say it like that you take all the mystique out of it," said Daphne. She was leaning against one of the desks. Ron approached her, feeling more awkward by the second. This would be the third time they kissed, but both the previous times had some build up.

Deciding he wouldn't bow to his nervousness, he stepped forward and kissed her.

If their first kiss had been passionate, and their second gentle, the third was expected. There wasn't an immediate spark ignited by the kiss.

They broke apart. "If you kiss me like that there'll be no mystique," said Daphne quietly.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"If you apologize, it makes you sound weak," said Daphne. "Just kiss me."

So he did, pushing hard, and the desk beneath them squeaked as it shifted. Daphne pushed back, and let her, only to push back once more.

This time, when they broke apart, they were both breathing heavy. "That enough mystique for you?" asked Ron.

"I—for now," said Daphne, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"I disagree." And he tasted her lips once more.

* * *

 **A/N: Meant to get this out earlier this week, but I just never got around to it. I'm having fun writing the next parts, and I've gotten to planning out how this is going to end.**


	5. Chapter 5: First Date

**Chapter 5: First Date**

The next two weeks flew by, and the second task was upon them before they knew it. Daphne had really only gone to the first one out of duty to the school—she didn't care about the tournament and hadn't known any of the champions—but now that she knew what to expect, and because Ron was excited to see his friend compete, she was looking forward to going.

They had made plans to meet a half hour before the event started, but Ron hadn't showed, and there was only fifteen minutes before the task took place. Daphne was looking all around the stands, and Ron was nowhere to be found. Harry hadn't arrived either, and she didn't even see Hermione. Finally, she spotted Ginny sitting with a group of girls she didn't recognize, and made her way over.

When Ginny saw her, she asked, "Is something wrong?"

"I can't find Ron anywhere," said Daphne. "We were supposed to meet twenty minutes ago."

"He and Hermione had something to do for Professor McGonagall last night, and that was the last I saw them," said Ginny.

Daphne sighed, and made her way to an empty seat. She hoped that whatever it was that McGonagall had asked them to do, it was occupying them now, or she would have strong words with Ron.

Two minutes before the task started, Harry rushed in to the champion's tent, and though Daphne took another look for Ron, she didn't see him.

Ludo Bagman came out at 9 sharp, announcing what the task was to be—a race down to the merpeople village to retrieve someone special to them. As the champions prepared their methods of underwater maneuvering, Daphne realized that Ron and Hermione were both underwater. Ron for Harry, and Hermione for Krum.

The champions entered the water one by one, Krum with half a shark head, Delacour and Diggory with Bubble Head charms, and Harry eating some kind of wriggly plant—Daphne didn't recognize it. As soon as they were underwater, Bagman announced that they would have to wait.

Daphne heard groans from the audience, and held back from joining them. If all they were doing here was waiting for the champions to return, then the Ministry clearly hadn't thought through the spectator side of this event.

As the minutes dragged on, Daphne turned to looking at the stands, and saw Tracey sitting alone, and eyeing Pansy's group sitting with Malfoy. After hesitating, Daphne made her way down to her estranged friend.

"Hello Tracey."

"What do you want, Greengrass?"

Oh, was she Greengrass now? Daphne filed that away, irritated. "You're sitting alone, so I thought I'd join you."

Tracey didn't look at her. "I shouldn't be seen with you."

"Because Malfoy said you couldn't sit with them?" And by Tracey's silence, Daphne knew she had the right of it. "Tracey, look. The thing with Ron got out of hand, and we both promised not to talk about it. Then I got pregnant, and I'd only found out that day. You're the first one I would have told, had my father not sent that howler. I understand if you don't want to be friends with him, but Ron's a better guy than you think. You don't have to decide now, but I'd rather be friends with you than not."

Daphne stood and walked back to her seat. She'd thought long and hard about what she would say to Tracey if they talked again, and what she just told her seemed to be the best option. Daphne would need an apology at some point, but for now she just wanted her friend back.

Delacour surfaced about halfway through the hour, without anyone in tow, clearly distraught and injured. She was immediately taken into the champion's tent where Madam Pomfrey would not doubt be waiting for her.

The one hour mark came and went, and Daphne noticed that Bagman was starting to look a little nervous. But then Diggory burst out of the water, Chang in tow, and Bagman took to announcing. "And Diggory is the first champion to retrieve their hostage, just two minutes shy of the hour he was allotted. He will be scored after the task is complete."

There was mild applause, to which Daphne added only a few claps. When Krum surfaced nine minutes later holding Hermione, she gave more. But Harry was taking the longest, and now Daphne was getting slightly worried for him and Ron.

Twenty minutes later, Harry surfaced, with both Ron and someone that Daphne presumed to be Delacour's hostage. Together, Harry and Ron helped the girl to the shore, where they were all immediately wrapped up in blankets. Delacour rushed to her hostage, and now that she could see both of them, Daphne guessed it was her younger sister.

After hugging her sister, Delacour promptly placed a kiss on Harry's cheek, and after a moment, kissed Ron as well. Daphne felt a surge of jealousy, and glared at the French woman. She glared at Ron, too, who caught her eye a moment later. A flash of guilt crossed his face. Good. He deserved that.

Dumbledore was now talking to one of the mermen, and after a good minute, the merman sank back into the lake, and Dumbledore returned to the judges.

Once they finished talking, Bagman stepped forward to award the points. They gave Delacour twenty-five, Diggory forty-seven, Krum forty, and Harry forty-five, and announced the final task for the twenty-fourth of June.

Then, the task was finished, and Daphne made her way down to meet up with Ron. When he saw her he waved her over. "Daphne, sorry I couldn't meet up with you."

Daphne joined in step beside him. "I'll let it go, just this once. Tell me next time."

"I will," Ron promised.

"Congratulations on first place," Daphne said to Harry. He looked embarrassed, but she meant it. They'd had just one patronus lesson, but Harry was a good teacher, encouraging everyone even when they only could produce wisps of mist.

"That's how I started," Harry had said, when Astoria had expressed disappointment. "I had lessons for two months before I could do more than that."

That had seemed to cheer her up some, but Daphne had noticed the jealous looks she had given the twins when their mist had been bigger than hers.

"Are we having patronus lessons today, Harry?" Daphne asked, after Harry mumbled a thank you to her.

"I guess so," he said. "After lunch, though—I'm starving."

After lunch, they all met up in that abandoned classroom, and Harry went over the instructions of the spell again. "Remember, the more powerful your memory, the better your patronus will be."

Daphne thought back on the memory she'd used last week. When she was nine, her father had taken her to a quidditch match between Puddlemere United and the Chudley Cannons. United had gotten out to an early lead, but as the match wore on, the Cannons had fought back, until the Cannons seeker caught the snitch, ending the game and giving the Cannons the second of their two wins that season, and the only game Daphne had attended where the Cannons won.

Harry had asked her what memory she had used, not in detail, and after she told him, asked if there was anything stronger. There was, but Daphne hadn't said so.

The afternoon Ron had asked her to marry him. That was the happiest memory she could think of, and she was scared to use it. Ron had made her feel wanted, and that emotion had been what she thought back to whenever she saw Tracey ignoring her, or received dirty looks from her housemates, or when she spent the opening moments of her day emptying her stomach into the toilet bowl.

Today, she resolved to use this memory instead.

When Harry gestured to her, she recalled that moment, and said, " _Expecto Patronum!_ "

A silvery shape burst out of the end of her wand, and dissipated after a few seconds. Daphne gasped, and stared at her wand. She'd felt so much more power than her attempt from last week.

"Well done, Daphne," said Harry, grinning. Everyone else was looking at her as well. "What was the difference?"

"I used a stronger memory," said Daphne softly.

"Why don't you give it another try, and see if you manage it this time?"

Daphne concentrated, imagining herself back in the fountain room, just as Ron smiled at her, and said those magic words. " _Expecto Patronum!_ "

The silvery shape burst out of her wand again, and dashed around the room before it faded. Suddenly Daphne felt very tired, which Harry noticed, and had her sit in one of the chairs to the side. Everyone else took her improvement as a challenge, but none of them managed more than a fine mist.

Afterwards, once the others had left, Harry came up her and asked what memory she had used. Daphne hesitated, unsure if she wanted to trust him with it. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," she said, meeting his eyes.

"You remember about Black, don't you?" asked Harry. She nodded. "The night I met him, he asked me to live with him."

Daphne considered that. "You don't like living with your muggle relatives?"

"No."

She didn't push further. "Mine is the afternoon Ron asked me to marry him. It was after we were to be betrothed, but he wanted to ask proper."

Harry sighed. "Ron's changed, since he met you."

Daphne looked at him. "How so?"

"He takes everything more seriously, now," said Harry. "I—it scares me."

"Why?"

"Because…" Harry ran a hand through his hair. Somehow that made it neater. "Because it makes me wonder what I'll be like, in the future."

"I don't think you have to worry about, Harry," said Daphne. "You're going to be great."

"How do you know?"

"Because you stayed behind to make sure everyone got out today. I don't think anyone else would have."

"Thanks Daphne," he said quietly. Then, louder: "I'm glad Ron met you."

"Me too."

* * *

Ron stormed to his evening meeting with Daphne in the library, where they now met together to work on homework. He had adapted easily to working on most of it with her. While she wasn't as immediately knowledgeable about a topic like Hermione was, she knew where to look for information, and explained what he didn't understand better. Hermione tended to get exasperated with him quickly, explaining multiple times with overly long-winded details that Ron didn't get.

But today Rita Skeeter had written up a torrid article on Hermione, and Snape had read it aloud in front of the entire class. Daphne had offered a sympathetic glance, but couldn't do much more than that in Snape's classroom. It had ruined his good mood about meeting Sirius the next day in Hogsmeade.

Daphne had finished dinner earlier than he had, so she was waiting for him, her potions textbook open. She looked up when he sat down, slamming his books on the table. "You can't let these get to you, Ron," she said. "It'll only make it worse if they see it gets to you."

"How would you know?" Ron grumbled as he took out his own potions textbook.

Daphne pursed her lips. "I've gotten more than a few comments about our relationship."

"Who? Tell me who and I'll hex them," said Ron angrily.

"It's fine, really, Ron. If I need you to her someone for me, I'll tell you."

Ron scowled, but pushed prime thoughts about which hexes he'd use on Skeeter to the back of his mind and grabbed a piece of parchment. "Oh, Snuffles wants to meet in Hogsmeade," said Ron. "We let him know you're in on the secret, and he wants to meet you, too."

Daphne didn't outwardly react. "I suppose."

Realizing he was in the danger zone, he added. "It shouldn't take long—afterwards we'll have a proper date."

"I'll hold you to that," said Daphne, and kept writing.

They left for Hogsmeade after lunch, making sure to sneak out some food for Sirius in a basket. Daphne met them in the entrance hall, and they made it to town with an hour to spare, so they decided to split up. Ron let Daphne lead him around, and they stopped at Honeydukes, where Daphne bought a whole bag of Cockroach Clusters. When asked, she said defensively, "I get cravings, sometimes."

Ron just nodded, not wanting to offend her, and they left for a clothing store, where Daphne looked at a bunch of robes, asking Ron's opinion on them, and again, he tried not to offend her. She ended up trying three different sets of robes on, and Ron said she looked good in all of them. Judging by her expression, she didn't believe him, but didn't say anything about it, either.

That took up most of their hour, and they headed over to their meeting place. Sirius was already there, his great black dog form mangy but excited. Daphne seemed very keen on the dog, though she tried not to show it. As they approached, Daphne suddenly asked, "Wait, is this the dog that bit you?"

"Yes, but it's friendly now."

Daphne didn't look convinced. Sirius started to come up to her, but she said, "Not too close. I don't trust you."

The dog drooped, and he met eyes with Ron. He shook his head ever so slightly, and the dog whined. Daphne looked impressed. "At least he follows directions well."

Harry and Hermione arrived then, and Sirius took off out of town. As they started to follow, Daphne asked, "Are we following the dog?"

Harry looked at Ron. "You didn't tell her?"

"Daphne, the dog knows where Snuffles is."

Daphne looked even more unsure, but followed without comment.

They hiked up the small mountain for almost half an hour, and Ron could see that Daphne was growing less and less impressed with the situation as they kept climbing. Eventually, they came to a small crevice, and Sirius disappeared within. "Wait, Black's in there?"

"He is," said Ron. "We'll go in first."

Harry led the way, then Hermione, then Ron, and finally Daphne. Sirius was sitting next to a pile of small bones and old Daily Prophets. Buckbeak was beside him, and all three of them bowed to him, and Daphne followed suit. Buckbeak then bowed back, allowing Hermione to stroke him. Then Sirius transformed back, and Daphne screamed. Sirius started laughing, and soon, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were laughing too. Daphne slapped Ron's shoulder, and said, "Next time, tell me about stuff like this."

"I will," said Ron. "Daphne, meet Sirius Black. Sirius, my betrothed, Daphne Greengrass."

"A pleasure," said Sirius, bowing. "I understand if you don't want to get too close."

Daphne nodded, but didn't say anything. Sirius turned his attention to the basket of food, which Harry handed over. "Chicken!" he exclaimed. "I've been living off rats, mostly."

"Sirius," asked Harry softly, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm worried about you," said Sirius. "Someone wants you in this tournament, and people are getting unsettled." He gestured to the papers. Two of the headlines read, _Mysterious Illness of Mr. Crouch_ , and _Ministry Witch Still Missing—Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved_. Ron passed the papers over to Harry.

Harry made a comment about Crouch's health, and from there, they got into a long discussion about him, involving his house-elf and the World Cup, and his history in the DMLE and with Sirius' arrest. Sirius seemed very unnerved by the events, and warned Harry to be careful around him, if he saw him again.

Sirius also extended a congratulations to Ron and Daphne on their betrothal and pregnancy. They'd thanked him for it, and not long after, they set off back down the mountain. In Hogsmeade proper, they said goodbye to Harry and Hermione, who went back to the castle for dinner.

"So," asked Ron, "what did you think?"

"Bla—Snuffles," Daphne corrected, when Ron gave her a harsh look, "was more sane than I thought he'd be. I can tell he really cares about Harry."

"He's all he's got left," said Ron. "Aside from Professor Lupin and Dumbledore, we're the only ones who know he's innocent."

"He knew Professor Lupin?" Daphne asked.

Ron nodded. "They were best mates in school, along with Harry's dad. That's why he's Harry's godfather."

Daphne hummed to herself, and didn't reply. So Ron asked, "Did you want to eat now? It's a bit early—we could keep shopping."

"Food sounds good," said Daphne. So they went to the Three Broomsticks and ordered their food. While they waited to be served, they talked a bit more about their afternoon with Sirius. Daphne wasn't willing to trust Sirius outright, trusting instead in Harry's trust of the man. She was also curious about how exactly their first meeting with Sirius had gone down.

So Ron regaled her with the tale, from Buckbeak's execution to the mysterious dog and the Whomping Willow, the reveal of Sirius, Lupin's arrival, Snape's arrival, the reveal of Pettigrew, Harry's intervention, the escape and subsequent flight from the werewolf and the dementors, Sirius's capture, and the time travel adventure to save him.

As Daphne mulled the story over, she suddenly asked, "Do you have a big adventure every year, with the deadliest magical creatures and the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher involved somehow?"

Ron thought about it. "Pretty much, yeah."

She sighed. "This year must seem tame."

"For Hermione and I," said Ron. "Harry's had to face down a dragon already."

"I suppose."

"And I've been dealing with the most dangerous magical creature yet," Ron said, after a moment.

"What would that be?"

"You."

Daphne blushed. Just then their food arrived, and Ron thanked Rosmerta. As they started eating, Daphne asked, "Do you really think I'm the most dangerous magical creature?"

Ron finished his sip of butterbeer. "Definitely. The other ones could take my life, but you've taken my heart."

It was a cheesy line—Ron realized that as he said it—but Daphne smiled and said, "I think you might have taken mine, too."

Ron's heart soared, and he smiled right back.

* * *

 **A/N:** A bit shorter, but this worked best as an end point.


	6. Chapter 6: A Drop of Blood

**Chapter 6: A Drop of Blood**

The Easter Holidays crept up on Daphne faster than she expected them. Between schoolwork, her evening studies with Ron, and weekly checkups with Madam Pomfrey, she hadn't been watching the calendar. But then the weeks had gone by, and Easter was upon them.

And now she had a week to spend with her family and Ron.

In some ways, this would be a prelude to the summer, as Ron would be spending the first half of the holidays at her house, and once they were married, spend the other half with Ron's family.

She, Ron, and Astoria waved goodbye to Harry and Hermione as the Hogwarts Express left. Over the past month, she'd gotten to know Harry and Hermione better, mostly through the patronus lessons, and considered them friends, now. Harry more so than Hermione, as the more she saw him the more she realized just how much his reputation, especially in Slytherin, was mischaracterized.

Witnessing the power of his patronus helped—a spell powered by such positive emotion, especially once they had shared the basis of said spell—had broken down some of the barriers, and Daphne felt like she was getting to know Harry for who he was, not the overblown, egotistical, and narcissistic caricature she thought he'd been.

She had even managed her own patronus—a hedgehog—two lessons ago, and Ron's terrier had followed the lesson after. She planned on showing that off to her parents at some point.

Her mother and father were waiting at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and Astoria rushed out to greet them. Daphne followed behind at a more sedate pace, and hugged her parents after Astoria. Ron accepted a hug from her mother, and shook her father's hand firmly. Firm hand shakes were a stickler for her father—he disliked wimpy handshakes, and Daphne had warned Ron about this ahead of time.

From there they flooed to Rampion Hill, the ancestral Greengrass manor house. Daphne quickly offered him a tour of the house, showing him through the living area on the first floor, and the bedrooms on the second, including the guest room he'd be using. Father had been very insistent that Ron have his own room. Daphne hadn't been planning on sharing a room with Ron until they were married, so she had quickly agreed.

The last place in the house she showed him was her room. He immediately noticed the signed snitch sitting inside a glass case, and came over to admire it. It was signed by Parius Milton, the seeker of the Chudley Cannons, and given to her after they had beaten United at the game Daphne had attended. It was her favorite Christmas gift.

She also showed him around the grounds, which were small compared to other manor houses, like the Malfoys or Notts, but the gardens were her father put his spare time. Full of rare plants, the garden was organized around a large fountain. That was part of the reason that the fountain room in Hogwarts was so comforting—it reminded her of all the times she'd spent in the gardens, watching her father tend to the plants.

Dinner was ready when they came in, and after they washed up, and a quick warning to Ron about his table manners, they sat down to Twilly's best cooking. Father immediately turned the conversation on Ron. "So, Ronald, tell me more about yourself."

Ron finished chewing, and began talking. He began with his family, and from there, to his interests, with chess and quidditch.

"Wizards Chess—you any good?" asked Father.

"Decent enough, I suppose," said Ron. "If you'd like to play a game—"

"I accept," said Father, interrupting. Daphne might have groaned, but kept up a poker face. Her father had won several tournaments over the years, and kept up practicing. His chess set was battleworn and not easily defeated. Ron would be in for a challenge. "We'll play later tonight."

"You also mentioned quidditch," said Mother, diverting the topic from Father's intense interest to his side interest. "I think Daphne had mentioned something about the Cannons."

"They're my team," said Ron. "I was surprised to hear that Daphne supported them as well—no one seems to like them much—just pity."

"A bloody Cannons fan," said her Father. "I'll never get that silly notion of that team out of her head."

"It's not the head you need to take it out of," said Ron. "It's the heart."

Father grumbled. "Fat lot heart's going to do you in business." He shook his head, refocusing. "Do you play for your house team?"

Ron shook his head. "I play keeper, and the previous captain played keeper—I was going to try out this year, but they canceled quidditch. I'll try out next year."

"You any good?"

"I play against my brothers over the summer, and they're on the team. Beaters. And chaser."

"We'll have to test your flying skills, then, as well," said Father. "I might not fly often, but I played chaser for Slytherin when I was in school—I still remember my skills."

They talked quidditch for a few more minutes, and Daphne could hardly believe just how well Ron and her father were getting along, not after how they'd first met. She hadn't pieced together how similar they were in some aspects, and right now, they were highlighting those.

"We've talked interests," said Father, after a while, "but what about ambitions? Who do you see yourself being?"

Ron got a lot quieter. "I've been thinking about that a lot, lately, and a few months ago, I might have said something quidditch related, but after thinking about it more, I might become an auror. I need something that will support our family." He looked to Daphne as he said that, and she felt like butterflies flitted about in her stomach. Our family. How odd, to think those words about Ron and herself. And their baby.

"Fancy yourself a dark wizard catcher? You dueled much?"

Ron shook his head. "I've gotten more experience against dark creatures."

"Such as?"

"Trolls, cerberus, acromantulas, basilisks, werewolves, dementors, blast-ended skrewts, the like," said Ron.

Mother looked aghast. "Basilisks? Where on earth did you fight one of those?"

"The monster in Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets was a basilisk, Mother," said Daphne. "Ron helped Harry kill it."

"Helped is a strong word," said Ron quickly, but both Mother and Father demanded the story. So Ron launched into the story of their trip to the Chamber of Secrets. "As you can see," he said, finishing it up, "I didn't do much against the snake itself. But I would have helped if I could."

But her father was looking at Ron differently. "And each of those creatures has stories like that?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "I've just—we don't like talking about all the times we nearly died."

"With some dueling under your belt, you'd make a good auror," said Father. "You've got a good head on your shoulders."

"It would have helped against Sirius Black," said Daphne, teasingly. Ron just about glared at her, but her mother just about screamed in shock.

"Sirius Black? You faced off against that murderer?"

"Once or twice," said Ron.

That was the wrong answer. "Now this needs explaining," said her father. So Ron told about the time in the dormitory with Sirius standing over him with a knife.

Mother just about fainted in her chair, but Astoria, who had been quiet for most of the evening, leaned forward eagerly. "And the other time?"

"I think I'll save it for another day," said Ron. He finished the last of his soup, and asked, "Is there dessert?"

There was—one of Twilly's prize peach pies, served with cream and caramel. One of Daphne's favorites, normally, but tonight the pie tasted off. By the end of it, she was forcing the pie down, and her mother noticed.

"Something the matter with your pie, Daphne?"

Daphne stared at the few bites left on her plate. "It tastes off—I don't know how to describe it."

Mother patted her on the arm. "Pregnancy, dear. Makes all manner of odd changes, and your taste buds are one of them."

Daphne nodded silently, and persevered through one more bite, before Ron volunteered to finish the rest. She pushed her plate over gladly, and sighed. Of course pregnancy would take away her favorite dessert.

After the dishes were cleared, Father sent for his chess set, lending Ron a spare set, and they set out to do battle. Daphne wasn't very interested in chess, but she was enraptured by the game they were playing. It started out fairly even, but as the game went on, Daphne could see Ron's position weaken and weaken, and his brow twitch more and more. A sure sign he was beginning to get frustrated. Finally, after a few desperate attempts to checkmate the king, Ron surrendered, and shook for a game well fought.

"You might have been a match for me in school, with your own set," said Father. "A good match. We'll have to play again, with your set."

"We will," agreed Ron.

With a promise to play again, it was time for bed. Daphne was feeling quite tired—the travel had taken more out of her than she'd first thought, and she couldn't wait to get some rest.

The next morning saw her Father out for the day in business meetings, leaving them to spend the day with Mother. Most of it was spent listening to her tell stories from her pregnancies, all trying to reassure Daphne that she'd be fine, and that what she was feeling was normal.

Slowly, the week passed by, until Good Friday arrived. Mother was rather religious, and had tried to instill as much of it as she could in her and Astoria, but her sister had taken to it more than she had. Mostly Daphne went along with it, as she liked the morals and the music, but otherwise didn't interact with her mother's faith. Church on Good Friday, Easter, and Christmas were family traditions, and Daphne tried to prepare Ron what to expect during the service, as his family wasn't religious either.

Church was a subdued affair—it always was on Good Friday, but Daphne noticed that Ron was paying attention in the service. But when they came home, Ron asked why it was called Good Friday, if they were remembering the day Jesus had died.

"Because his death paid the price for our sins," answered Astoria. "That way, we could have eternal life in heaven."

Ron nodded, and Daphne couldn't tell what he thought of the answer.

On Saturday Ron, Father, and Astoria got on brooms and flew around the grounds. Father even got out a quaffle and tested Ron's keeping abilities, and after half an hour in the air, declared them competent.

That was also the day Astoria decided they should show off their patronuses, and started by asking if their parents could cast one. Father could only recall its use against dementors and lethifolds, and Mother had seen it cast, but hadn't performed it herself.

"Why were you asking?" asked Mother, seeing an ulterior motive.

Instead of answering, Astoria pulled out her wand and said confidently, "Expecto Patronum!"

A silver mist crept out of Astoria's wand. "It's not much yet," she said, "but Harry's been teaching me."

Mother looked somewhat impressed—Father less so. "Doesn't seem like it's that powerful," he commented.

"Then you try," said Astoria. She demonstrated the wand movement, and told him, "And think of your happiest memory. That's what powers it."

With a firm voice, Father said, " _Expecto Patronum._ " And a small wisp emerged from his wand—far less than the voluminous mist Astoria had produced.

"I—that is rather difficult."

"But with enough practice," said Daphne, "you can do this. Expecto Patronum!"

Her hedgehog burst from her wand, rolling across the floor to where her mother was sitting. She exclaimed in delight, and Father looked on appreciatively. Ron's terrier emerged a moment later.

"Any reason you're studying such a difficult charm?" asked Mother.

"Because it's cool." "Because it's useful." Both Astoria and Daphne spoke at the same time.

Astoria went first. "As soon as Harry showed it to me, I knew I had to learn it."

"I thought it would have been useful last year, when all those dementors we're around," said Daphne. "I would have felt safer."

Father's eyes tightened. He had expressed his displeasure about the dementors around Hogwarts more than once, and had been glad to see them gone.

After seeing the spell performed correctly, both Mother and Father tried it, and even though they couldn't produce more than a mist, both admitted that the mist was calming. Then it was dinner, and bed soon after.

Easter Sunday was mildly warm, but the service was lively, and Ron even seemed to get into the singing, if a bit off key. Daphne always preferred Easter to Christmas, because the hope was so much more vibrant in the spring than the winter holiday. Even if she didn't think it was all true, she liked the spirit of the holidays.

During the sermon, as the reverend began to preach about the meaning of the resurrection, Daphne found herself listening in, more than usual. The reverend's words about a world without pain, without sadness, without death, seemed all the more fantastical, but there was a draw to that fantasy Daphne hadn't felt before.

Immediately after service, they had to rush to make it back to the train on time. Astoria nearly forgot her hairbrush, and Daphne felt overwhelmed the whole way until she was sitting aboard the train.

Ron seemed to be in a contemplative mood, so she asked, "What're you thinking about?"

"Life," said Ron. "And how amazing it is that we made one."

"What brought that on?"

"The sermon," he answered. "A place without pain, sadness, or death doesn't seem possible. But when I think about our child, I want it."

"I know what you mean," said Daphne. "I don't think heaven is real, but if it was, I'd do everything to get there."

They didn't talk much the rest of the ride home, and when classes started up the next day, the usual routine began again.

Then, during the first week of May, during a regular checkup with Madam Pomfrey, Daphne first felt the baby move. The medi-witch had just finished up a suite of diagnostic charms, proclaiming the baby to be in full health, when she'd felt a small jolt inside her belly. She exclaimed in surprise, and Madam Pomfrey turned and asked, "Is something wrong?"

A bright smile flashed on Daphne's face. "The baby—he kicked."

"Oh, that's wonderful, dear," said Madam Pomfrey. "I remember the time my first child started kicking in the womb. You're about the time when you really start to know your child."

Daphne's hand hardly left her stomach the rest of the day, and when Ron commented on her joyful mood, she told him about the kick. He burst into the widest grin, and hugged her tight. Once he'd kissed her, he said, "That's incredible. What did it feel like?"

"It was just a little jolt. But as soon as I felt it, I knew it was him."

"And how do you know it's a him?" asked Ron.

"A gut feeling, really."

Ron laughed, and placed a hand over her belly. "I'd be happy either way—but I want the surprise. If it's a girl, then—"

And her baby kicked again. Ron's eyes lit up. "He recognizes you," said Daphne.

"She knows her papa," said Ron, emphasizing the she.

"I hope so," said Daphne. She leaned up against Ron. "Have you thought much about names?"

Ron shook his head. "Not yet. Why? Did you have an idea?"

"I've been thinking about it, and looking at my family tree for names I liked. I was named for my great-grandmother and great aunt, you know?"

"I don't know where Ronald came from," said Ron, "but Bilius was a great uncle."

"Your middle name is Bilius?" She giggled—she hadn't thought his parents would put such a name on him.

"You didn't know?"

"You never said."

"Well, you can see why."

Daphne giggled some more. "Our son, Bilius Drufus Weasley."

Ron made a face. Then he asked, "D'you like the name Drufus?"

"Oh, no, I hate it. It just sounded funny."

"I kind of liked it." Daphne made to hit him, but he couldn't help smiling, revealing the tease. His expression turned thoughtful. "What do you think of Hugo?"

Daphne thought on it. "After the chaser on the Cannons?"

Ron blushed. "I like the name, alright? Does it really matter where it came from?"

"Lucius Severus Weasley doesn't sound so bad," said Daphne, teasingly. Ron made a face, so she said, "Hugo is a nice name."

"And if it's a girl?" asked Ron.

"He won't be."

"If she was."

The name came to mind immediately. "Bryony."

Ron kissed her hair. "Bryony or Hugo, then."

"Hugo—maybe Bryony."

And Ron laughed, holding her tighter.

But Daphne's happy mood didn't last the whole week. She was barely showing, but already she was regularly getting comments about her weight in the halls from her housemates, and even a few adventurous students from other houses. Those were usually driven off with an icy glare, but she couldn't avoid Slytherin like she could Hufflepuff.

Popular opinion wasn't for her—Slytherins didn't like her because of Ron, Hufflepuff didn't like her because she was irresponsible, and Gryffindors didn't like her because she was a Slytherin. And the Ravenclaws mostly ignored her, so she spent most of her time with Ron or Astoria, who didn't do herself favors by hanging around her. It was a vicious cycle with her sister—the more time Astoria spent with Daphne, the more she was isolated, and the more time she spend with Daphne.

On Friday, just after she had finished her early lunch, Daphne ran into Pansy, Millicent, Zabini, and Tracey on their way to the Great Hall. Tracey still hadn't talked with her, but every now and then, she saw her estranged friend watching her, almost longingly.

Blaise was talking about his latest letter from his mother, but when Pansy saw her, she smirked. "If it isn't Vomitgrass! On your way to puke out your lunch?"

Vomitgrass was Pansy's attempt at a derogatory nickname, which stemmed from her morning sickness and Ron's hair color, judging by the remarks Pansy accompany it with.

"If you hold me up, I might not make it to the toilet," said Daphne. "Unless you consider your robes a decent substitute?"

Pansy had been relentless in her untoward comments lately, so Daphne had turned up the insults in return. Pansy never kept a cool head when provoked, which made it all the more fun to do so, even if it meant a harsher climate for her. It wasn't as if Pansy could act against Daphne directly, as she was both pregnant and had the ear of Professors Snape and Dumbledore if she wished.

But as Pansy reddened in anger, Zabini stepped in to de-escalate. "A bit harsh for the halls, don't you think, ladies?"

In other words, keep their disputes to the common room. She knew the sentiment, but Daphne would hit back when she could. Still, she didn't care to be on Zabini's bad side, as he was one of the few people in the school that actively reduced the tension around her. "You're right, Zabini," said Daphne. "I suppose my mood has been fickle, as of late. My apologies."

Zabini nodded, and when he turned his attention on Pansy, who gave a frustrated nod in return. Realizing this was her chance to go by without further altercation, Daphne hurried down the corridor. As she passed by Pansy, she stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. When Daphne turned back, she thought she saw Pansy's wand disappear into her robes. Tracey was staring at her, looking as if she wanted to say something. But Daphne shook her head subtly, Tracey looked away.

Even though she had turned away her friend, Daphne still felt a sting a regret as Tracey walked away with Pansy and the others. Pansy had used a tripping jinx—Daphne was sure of it, and the more she thought of it as she walked toward the potions classroom, the angrier she got. They had never gotten to exchanging hexes yet, but if this continued, they would.

For a moment, Daphne wished it would, so she could slap down Pansy once and for all, but then her stomach started churning, and her thoughts went to her baby. And that as long as she was pregnant, she couldn't risk it coming to that. That thought just made her angrier.

She managed to calm down by the time she got to class, and sat down as close to Ron as she could without Professor Snape making a fuss. A twinge of pain went through her lower regions as she sat down, but Professor Snape entered before she could think much on it.

He began the lecture—a treatise on the properties of belladonna flower petals—but the pain in her groin returned, and sharper the second time, followed by some unusual cramps. And then she felt a flash of nausea, which disappeared the moment she felt it.

Daphne hadn't felt anything like this before, so she raised her hand, and when Professor Snape noticed, she said, "I'm feeling unwell. May I visit the infirmary?"

Professor Snape looked into her eyes, and said in a voice that inspired no calm, "Do so immediately, Miss Greengrass."

Now more worried than ever, she tried to gather her things, but Professor Snape told her to leave them. She did, and made haste to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was tending to a first year who had miscast an incendiary hex and burnt herself. When she walked in, the medi-witch asked her what she was there for.

As she described the symptoms she was feeling, Daphne could see the worry lines in the older witch's face tighten and grow grim, all while her eyes offered as much comfort as they could. Daphne realized why before Madam Pomfrey even told her what was wrong. And nothing could stop the cold that seeped into her bones.

Madam Pomfrey came over and took her hand. "You've miscarried, dear. Let's get you into a bed."

* * *

Ron rushed up to the infirmary once class had ended, Daphne's things in hand. He had only heard the tone of voice Snape had used to her, and he hadn't been able to concentrate on the lesson at all. He almost exploded his potion three times, and each time Hermione had whispered to him to pay more attention to what he was doing.

Harry and Hermione had offered to come to the hospital wing with him, but he turned them down. He knew that sometimes women had issues while pregnant, but he felt a unique sense of dread as he opened the door. Had something happened to the baby? Or was he just worried for nothing?

When he opened the door, he didn't see anyone in the room—just a curtain separating a bed from view. That wasn't a good sign. Madam Pomfrey appeared from behind the curtain, and when she saw him, she beckoned him over. There was no hope in her expression.

As she pulled back the curtain, she put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry to tell you this. But she miscarried."

If there were words that could have described what those words did to Ron, he couldn't find them. His knees felt weak, nearly buckling beneath him. His breath caught, and he felt his airway constrict. His mouth instantly dried, and it hurt to swallow.

But that was just what those words did to his body. "No, no, no—that can't have happened," said Ron. "No, not Daphne."

He looked to her, and all he could see in her eyes was quiet. Her eyes, which normally seemed so warm when he looked into them, were distant and cold. She looked at him, and opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"There isn't anything more I can do," said Madam Pomfrey, softly. "I'll leave you be."

There was a chair next to the bed Daphne was lying in, and Ron found himself in it, staring at the floor. White tile, edged with a light red that wasn't quite pink, patterned the floor.

"Ron…"

He looked up, and from her eyes he could tell she didn't know what to say. Instead, she extended her hand, and Ron took it. Her hand was warm—far warmer than he felt it should be.

And he wept.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm not sorry.

 **A/N 2:** This story only has one chapter left. I never planned for it to be long, and now you see why. I will, however, be writing a snippet sequel, which will be posted beginning of next year.

 **A/N 3:** I'm sorry about this.


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